


Illusion of Fate

by Cascadenight



Category: Pocket Monsters | Pokemon - All Media Types
Genre: Action, Drama & Romance, F/M, Family Drama, Mentions of Sex
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-01-15
Updated: 2021-03-12
Packaged: 2021-03-13 15:34:12
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 9
Words: 28,292
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28780563
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Cascadenight/pseuds/Cascadenight
Summary: A fateful encounter in her teens leads Layla's present life into Lance's past. Questions pile up and only deepen as Team Rocket returns and a common enemy pulls the two strangers together. But Team Rocket is back with a vengeance and Archer has no problem killing to get what he wants.
Relationships: Morty/OC
Comments: 30
Kudos: 6





	1. Survive

**Author's Note:**

> Hi everyone!
> 
> Welcome back and thank you for waiting. If any of you have been with me since the start then this should be some familiar characters here. Layla is an important character to me as she is the one that started this all, my first ever fanfiction was with her and I'm so happy to be rewriting her story for the last time. I hope you enjoy this story as it will have a different pace and dynamic than the last one. Layla isn't going to date Lance, that much I will say, we all know who Lance belongs with ;)
> 
> So, as usual, I take themes from the manga/anime/games to create my own canon. If the differences are written I will explain them in my author notes or if you have questions feel free to message me!
> 
> Without further ado,
> 
> Enjoy!

_ 1998 - Team Rocket Base somewhere in Kanto _

“Again.”

Dom’s voice reverberates through the makeshift battlefield, his voice is cold and commanding, leaving no room for hesitation. His dark eyes trail across the screen in front of him as the psychic pokemon rights itself in the armor he designed for it. The metal plates glide silently as the psychic type lifts its hands towards its opponents; several Grunt pokemon clearly standing no chance against it trembling in fear. 

They’ve been training for years now, these pokemon know what’s going to happen, but it still catches them off guard each time. The brainwave monitor spikes to an impressive level, far above any other psychic type’s level, then stabilizes, as it should with the armor. It’s designed to keep it under control and slowly introduce its full strength to the pokemon. Across the way, the several pokemon float about the room, their pained cries music to Dom’s ears. 

The rocket grunts watching the display show a mix of awe, fear and pity for their pokemon subjected to its power.

To Mewtwo’s power.

“What is the point of this?” The pokemon demands, their dual tone voice making the grunts flinch. 

Dom steps away from the screens watching the subjects lower to the ground and scatter to get as far away from the psychic type as possible. From the sound of their voice, Dom knows they’ve reached the limit of their patience and waves off the grunts to collect their pokemon and leave. They do so, scrambling much like their pokemon did once released, the echo of the doors shutting reverberating around the last two in the room. 

He approaches Mewtwo with practiced ease, this pokemon could easily dispose of him if they wanted, but they wouldn’t. Their thirst to hone their power keeps them here, keeps them training under Dom, when they could easily figure it out for themselves in the outside world. But what is ‘the outside world’ to a pokemon kept in captivity it’s whole life? 

Grown in a lab and transported to a battlefield soon after waking up, Mewtwo isn’t aware of just how big the world really is. 

“I’m trying to fit the armor to you,” he explains in a calm voice. He learned early on that yelling at them only made their willingness to stay decrease and only made meetings with Giovanni more prevalent. Now he has to reason with the pokemon like a fool. “It has to match your power, not hinder it. The more exercises we do, the better it will be.”

“And why do I need this armor?” The pokemon raises an eyebrow. Their purple eyes always seem to stare right through Dom when they converse. It’s unsettling to say the least, it was even more so when the pokemon first spoke to Dom before he even knew they could talk. 

“Your raw power is... immense,” Dom paces in front of them. “You want to control yourself and you want to be powerful, yes? You need to start small, the suit of armor matches you to a new power level after every few sessions. It’s tedious but you’re the first of your kind. The  _ only _ of your kind. We don’t know your limits and so we must be careful.”

The pokemon considers this, their eyes searching Dom’s for a lie before glancing down at their hands. Dom watches in fascination as the pokemon considers themself. He’s amazed by the constant intelligence they’ve shown after coming out of their growth cycle two years ago. Day by day, Dom isn’t sure what they know and what they don’t know. They’re clearly suspicious of Giovanni, but seems to trust Dom somewhat during these sessions. At least, trust enough to let him perform test after test after a presentation of what he’s about to do to them.

“I understand.”

With that, the pokemon turns and floats back to their holding chamber, a massive machine that arches over a platform. It’s connected to the main computer Dom has access to so he may monitor Mewtwo 24/7, its brain activity and if it speaks to itself out loud. Claws reach out from beneath the floor to pull apart the armor, retreating them to the bulk of the machine for repair and testing. 

Dom watches the process with reserved fascination, he had the machine built after the one destroyed on One Island. Dr. Fuji’s work has been...  _ phenomenal. _ A word Dom never uses for people other than himself. Without Fuji, none of this would be possible and it’s a shame he’s not here to watch his project grow.

Once the process is done and Mewtwo begins to rest in the tube, Dom turns back to his platform. Most of what he said was a lie and Team Rocket is lucky Mewtwo hasn’t figured it out yet. 

The armor isn’t just a balance for their powers, it’s to control them while they’re in it through constantly monitoring its brain waves. There was a massive surge on the island before it was destroyed, that much was recovered from the computer and not much else. Luckily for Giovanni, Dom is well versed in manipulation through chemical and inventive means. 

One wrong move and it puts them into a deep slumber, a vulnerable state meant for reprogramming. After the destruction of the island there’s none of the memory serum left; the only thing Dom cannot replicate. 

That secret stays with Fuji. 

The only thing to do would be to weaken them to a manageable point and convince it Team Rocket is on their side. At least, that’s what Dom  _ wants _ to happen, but they haven’t made that contingency yet. It’s another project that falls on him to plan, it seems he’s the only one around here capable of doing  _ anything _ worthwhile. 

He turns on his heel and heads back to the platform to file away the session’s readings. Two year’s worth of growth stored on this computer, all that meticulous work Dom has done leading up to something big. Giovanni has plans for Mewtwo and that’s the only reason Dom’s here. 

The immense strength of the pokemon lies hidden in their training sessions, he can see the progress climbing each day. The biggest regret is not having the scans from  _ that _ day. The day Mewtwo destroyed the lab on New Island, killing most of the lab crew except for two people. He considers them lucky to have witnessed such a display, raw power magnified by rage. Giovanni truly doesn’t understand the sort of weapon he owns, and for that, Dom will consider him a fool. 

He recalls the young girl that was there too, a shame she wasn’t around to witness their bond grow. Giovanni prevented any contact with her, wanting to know how she will grow organically without a single hint to what’s inside. An admirable endeavor, but Dom’s logical mind sees no point in it. If she’s the control, she should be here.

With growing frustration, Dom makes his notes and saves them before closing out of the battlefield to head to his office. His mind spins with ideas, plans and work to keep Mewtwo under control. He’s getting close to losing them, and that would be a complete waste of resources.

In his office, he sits at his desk and stares at the piles of papers strewn across the top of it. For weeks he’s been looking for a way to slip in a bit of control on the pokemon. Pokeballs don’t have an obedience factor in them, pokemon caught in them  _ want _ to stay, and Mewtwo is too volatile to trust them to  _ want _ something like that. No, if Dom is going to get them to stay, it’ll have to be controlled. 

_ Knock. Knock. _

“What is it?” he glares at the door. 

It squeaks open and a grunt pops their head through. “Giovanni wants a meeting with you, sir.”

_ Fuck _ , he hates meeting with him. 

“Fine. I’ll be there.”

The door shuts and Dom grabs a folder of notes for the leader of Team Rocket. In the mirror of his office, his face changes from a young man to an older man, one closer in age to Giovanni. He’s found Giovanni is more likely to listen to someone he assumes has more experience, in this case a man in his early thirties. He’s gotten funding for personal experiments and gets to train Mewtwo on his own, a real treat considering the pokemon is Giovanni’s brainchild. 

He adjusts his uniform and exits the office, locking the door behind him, and strolls down the halls to the main office. From his understanding this HQ was built for Mewtwo’s arrival and training, leaving it small but filled with appropriate machinery and materials to ensure the Pokémon’s cooperation. Dom was impressed with the Rocket leader’s ability to toss money around on the building and maintain it with a small, special squadron of rocket grunts. 

Only thirty grunts know of the existence of Mewtwo, an order Giovanni created once the pokemon destroyed the island, to keep everyone safe and out of sight of the G-men. Dom understands Giovanni’s brother is a high ranking member of the G-men, someone who knows how Giovanni operates and is a capable opponent. It’d be a shame to lose the pokemon to them, have it turned loose to explore the world Mewtwo must be kept secret until they’re completely under Team Rocket control. 

Then everything will fall into place. 

Dom reaches the office and steps in without knocking. He nods a hello to the man in question and his Persian beside him. Giovanni is a man used to getting his way, it’s clear in the way he sits, the way he stares and the way he talks. He’s a bulky man, tall with a voice sharp enough to cut you with the right words. Every time Dom has met with the man, he’s been in perfect condition, hair gelled back, freshly shaven and dressed in expensive, tailored suits with shining shoes. Clearly, a man with the time and money to care for himself no matter the mission.

Despite his look, Dom doesn’t care about this man and is only here for Mewtwo. So he draws himself up and speaks in a plain tone. “Training was successful today.”

“And short,” Giovanni interjects. “What is happening?”

“Well, it’s questioning us,” Dom sighs, as if speaking about a rowdy teenager. He crosses the room and takes a seat in front of his desk. “I think it knows we’re up to something and we need to come up with a way to control it faster.”

“That’s what you’re here for,” Giovanni grumbles, petting Persian’s head. “What do you suggest?”

“The girl,” Dom replies, leaning back and crossing one leg over the other. He doubts Giovanni will agree, but it’s always worth it to rile him up a bit. “She’s supposed to have this bond with it. Why not let them grow together?”

“Do you think I could maintain her?” Giovanni frowns. “She’s the child of my brother, it’s not plausible to take her and keep her hidden from the world. I may have money but not enough for the movement, building and destruction of a new base every few months to keep her out of sight of her father.”

A hiccup Dom didn’t expect. Makes sense, however, despite the executives working for Giovanni; Aaron is resourceful. He’d no doubt sniff out his daughter at every turn. 

“Besides, she’s a child,” Giovanni continues. “If she were to be here into her teenage years, what makes you think she wouldn’t rebel with him? With no sure way to control them both, it’s safer to keep them separate. Control one, then you’ll have the other.”

“So, we’re working on Mewtwo first as it’s the cheaper, easier, option?” Dom raises a brow. 

“It doesn’t know any better. Since it’s conception it’s been under our care, what does Mewtwo know of the outside world?” Giovanni poses. “What does it know of freedom? Or of the strength it so desperately wants? Nothing. It knows what we tell it and the less it knows-“

“The more it relies on us,” Dom finishes with a smile. “I’m going to need some more experiments.”

“You understand Mewtwo’s brain chemistry better than anyone else here,” Giovanni nods. “What is it?”

“I’ve found a window of opportunity,” Dom opens the folder and plops the scans on his desk. “While its control of its power is getting better, there are moments in which he’s vulnerable. Times when its emotions are getting the best of him, leaving his mind open for control.”

“How?” Giovanni frowns, looking at the scans. 

Dom sighs, a little frustrated having to explain every little thing to him. It’s a good quality for a leader and Dom hates it. Just as Giovanni wants Mewtwo clueless to the outside world, Dom wants him clueless to the inner workings of his experiments. “He’s in an emotional state, creating instability in his mind. The suit has a component that connects to his brain, if I can find a signal to project to it at that time. It’s ours.”

It takes a moment for Giovanni to say something. His eyes roaming the sheets and seeming to drink in Dom’s words. The armor given to the pokemon can curb its power, but it’s still new technology, it needs refinement. For refinement, Dom needs research and so he sits back once more. 

“I need to look for a subject,” he states. 

“Do you have time? As you’ve said, it’s becoming aware.”

“I’m sure you’re aware of my history with the Natsume’s?” Dom raises a brow. At Giovanni’s nod, he continues. “As admirable as it is to create a circle of psychics, I am here to exploit it. I have a list of those and there’s one person I’d seen who can do it.”

“Where?”

“Here in Kanto.”

“I will allow you to seek them out, I cannot spare any grunts from here,” Giovanni nods. “You cannot explain what you’re doing and why.”

“Yes, thank you,” Dom stands, taking back his files and heading to the door. “It will be ours soon.”

“For your sake, it better be,” Giovanni threatens with a final wave.

_ Bastard, _ Dom growls stalking down the hallway back to his office. 

He shuts and locks the door, pulling up the list he had referenced earlier and scanning it for the subject needed. It’s been years since he practiced his abilities with a group, let alone ones he considered friends. The Natsume’s are a powerful family, their daughter second to none with even master human psychics. As much as he wishes he could experiment with her, Giovanni’s project holds a stronger interest. 

“Let’s make some progress,” he grins, holding up the file of Juniper Ostergaard. “You’ll do just fine, dear.”


	2. Pathfinder

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you to those who left comments/kudos! I really appreciate. Now, sorry for the late posting work was busy. It’s gonna be slow right now, but it will pick up!

“Why do humans have pokemon if they have powers of their own?” Mewtwo questions during their routine check up. 

Despite being done with their growth cycle, Dom likes to get their measurements and health readings. As pokemon continue to train, they may grow to more than their species’ average size and their health readings improve. So far, Mewtwo has grown to be 5’10” in the course of a year and through their months of training. With the health readings, they could be assumed to be a gym leader’s pokemon without, of course, regarding their psychic abilities. 

When Dom had laid eyes on the pokemon just out of its growth cycle he was a little put off by their humanoid appearance. His body barely resembled Mew’s, the original pokemon, and he wondered why the change. Was there so little DNA that they could only do so much? If there had been more, would Mewtwo have been an exact copy? 

Still, standing at just 5’10” Mewtwo is a worthy competitor and he suspects the pokemon will only get taller. Its purple tail has thickened considerably since they started, now able to be used in battle to swat at enemies, only if necessary. As he battles more and more, his body easily makes adjustments to keep up. 

It’s  _ impressive _ .

To the question at hand, Dom takes a moment to consider it. 

It’s been a couple days since their last outburst which left Dom brooding while planning his assault on Juniper. He plans to strike tonight, leaving him open to his usual tasks of answering this annoyingly curious Pokémon’s questions. 

“Not all of them are like me,” he answers in a calm tone. “And our powers aren’t strong like a pokemon.”

“Why? I don’t understand.”

“Humans and pokemon have lived alongside each other for most of history,” he continues, knowing what was coming. “Before society had come together and become what it is today there have been accounts of pokemon and people in harmony. My thoughts are that some of the early people evolved alongside pokemon. A form of convergent evolution, to keep up with pokemon, certain people evolved the ability to adapt to their companions.”

“How many are there? Like you?” The pokemon presses further and Dom glances at them curiously. 

“Why are you pushing this?” He raises a brow. 

In the back of his mind he wonders if anything happened with Serena. 

The pokemon’s purple eyes show nothing when they stare at him, an uncomfortable feeling for Dom to not know what they’re thinking, not even a hint. It’s made worse when his eyes seem so human like, so conscious and sentient. “Why am I here? Do you want to use me for these battles? I am not a pokemon  _ slave. _ If you have your own, I will never be yours.”

_ Damn it. _

“You’re the first of your kind,” Dom repeats the phrase and sets down his tablet. “We’re unsure how you’ll survive out there. Is it so bad to want to prepare you for it?”

Again more silence. 

“I understand.” 

Dom clears the pokemon for rest, sending them away to their holding chamber with growing frustration. The usual hum of the chamber fills the silence as Mewtwo settles in and falls into a deep slumber. As they’re still growing, they need constant and consistent sleep; something Dom found out fast. It’s a setback, but to keep the pokemon working at full capacity he’ll make due,  _ and _ it gives him breaks to work on his project. Especially now, he’ll have to move quick to keep them under control and he might as well start sooner rather than later. 

Giovanni had given permission for help on his endeavor, but Dom doesn’t want it. 

Barely needs it. 

It’s one woman, an ex-pokemon ranger turned stay at home mother. Married to a doctor with one child, a daughter. Dom isn’t sure what her daughter can do, if she has any gifts at all, but she’s young. Not a threat to him at all. 

Behind his office, lies a lab of his own, much smaller than his usual, but suitable to his needs. His recent subjects had expired from his experiments, strengthening and giving gifts to the ungifted. The woman had telepathy, extremely weak, but a great power indeed with time. She had been improving with the brainwave enhancer he’d created, but ended up suffering an aneurysm and passing away weeks ago. The man had nothing and Dom gave him telekinesis, the most common gift, but he suffered something similar and passed not long after the woman. 

For years, Dom has been experimenting and will continue to do so. If there are humans with powerful gifts, they deserve to be at the top. Not hiding about as simple trainers or gym leaders. They’re the next step for the human species in this world with pokemon. Humans with powers deserve to stand alongside pokemon and Dom will make the world see that vision. 

For now though, he’ll continue to siphon resources from Giovanni while working to create better technology both for himself and Mewtwo. 

He pulls up Juniper’s file he’s been compiling after training. Living in the outer suburbs of Celadon with her 10 year old daughter and husband. All he needs is to scan her brain while she attempts to control a pokemon.The best way to get that to happen is create a problem with a pokemon with only one way to get rid of it. 

He’ll create chaos and that’s what gets his heart pumping. 

The phone rings and he picks it up with a smile. “Archer. I’ll need to borrow your Houndoom.”

OoOoO

Dom is an expert at blending in with the crowd. 

At one point in his life, when he was young, he felt bad about it and wanted to change it. The people in his town told him he was possessed by a demon, he was mocked and ridiculed, some going to extreme lengths to cast him from the town. His own parents ashamed of what he could do, lied about having a son, a disgrace they wished to forget. 

He shakes the memory away as he heads to Celadon in the cover of the evening. Juniper, probably restless from retiring to stay at home, fills her day with meaningless hobbies while her daughter attends school. As much as Dom  _ hates _ interference, he knows his chances of completing his brain scan will increase if he can do so in a controlled environment. A little girl and a husband are much easier than a grocery story full of customers.

Such a simple mission really, do the brain scan and leave. It’s disappointing if he thinks about it too hard. It would be a shame if he didn’t have even a  _ little _ bit of fun... to relieve the stress from training Mewtwo.

“We’ll see,” he mutters to himself in the cool night air. 

The outer suburbs of Celadon look welcoming to Dom as he walks beside Houndoom, the fire type’s claws scratching the pavement below. He’d already mapped out the route to take and the steps needed to ensure success. Easy or not, he doesn’t want to mess this up and cost him a powerful pokemon. 

He’ll wait until the family sits down for dinner, their guards will be down and then he’ll let Houndoom take point. The pokemon will leap into the middle of things and create a mess while separating Juniper from her family. With her daughter in danger and her pokemon nowhere in sight, she’ll have no choice but to use her powers.

At least, that’s what Dom’s hoping for. If worse comes to worse, he’ll just have to do the brain scan and hope he can salvage something out of it. 

He shakes out of his reverie as a car speeds down the road. 

Their house is located at the end of a street, spaced out from the neighbors on either side with plenty of tree cover. Dom clambers up a tree in the front yard closest to the upstairs hallway window, offering him a view on both floors. Houndoom circles the tree before sitting underneath it, careful to stay hidden in the shadows casted by the thick trunk. 

Both assume comfortable poses as the waiting game begins. 

The cool air keeps Dom’s blood from heating up too fast as Juniper enters the house with her daughter. For a second, he considers changing his plan as her daughter runs upstairs to change, leaving Juniper all alone. Then her husband enters the front door and he’s forced to settle back and keep watch. Patience has never been his strong suit, especially with something as exciting as this. 

His mind wanders back to the memory of his childhood. Part of him wonders how different life would have been had his mother accepted him. Loved him like Juniper clearly loves her own child, would he have been less driven in his endeavor? Would he even have an endeavor had she loved him?

_ No matter _ , he shakes his head, focusing on the family below. 

Dwelling on the past never changed it and only fueled his rage more. No matter how much he changes and grows, he’ll still be the monster his parents made him out to be. So why not do some amazing feats on the way?

He shakes himself out of his reverie, it’s such a Buneary hole he’d miss everything if he kept going. 

Not much had changed in the minutes he day dreamed. 

Her daughter came downstairs after changing and helped set up the table while the adults talked in the kitchen. For a moment he wonders if he’ll have to speed up the plan, just do it now that they’re standing up, but he can’t. Her instincts would have her grabbing her bag in seconds with no chance for Houndoom to get in the way. 

So he waits a little longer, watching as they settle at the table and  _ finally _ start eating. 

Blood thrums in his veins now that he can begin, he loves the feel of hunting down prey, the fear in their eyes the moment they realize he’s in control... It’s exhilarating. 

Houndoom paws at the grass, sensing his excitement, and waits as the man holds up his hand to wait. The pokemon hunkers down on all fours, his muscles coiled and ready to strike when Dom gives the signal. Dom clambers down as they start eating, dropping his hand and letting him go ahead. 

The pokemon launches himself right through the dining room window with his massive body. The screams of Juniper’s daughter sound like music to Dom’s ears as he eases himself into the house through the broken window and shoots a dart at her husband. He watches the man slump to the ground, paralyzed, but still alive, while Juniper grabs her daughter and makes a dive for the living room to the right of the dining room.

Houndoom converges on the other side, blocking the way upstairs or the front door while Dom leers in the other exit. Juniper shoves Layla behind her towards the fireplace, both arms out to shield her daughter, her hazel eyes filled with anger. 

“Who are you?” she demands, her voice thick with venom. “We don’t have anything you want. Get out.”

“Quite the contrary,” Dom laughs, snapping his fingers. “Make a mess.”

Houndoom does so, howling its bone chilling howl and spitting fire at the couch on Juniper’s right. It bursts into flames, exploding and showering them with splinters, her daughter screams only exciting Houndoom more. The pokemon leaps through the flames, pushing Juniper back, and twisting so his tail wraps around her daughter’s ankle. 

When she tries to separate them, Houndoom snaps his teeth together to scare her into retreating, only Juniper does not. She uses her body to shove against the quadruped, making Dom smile as if Houndoom  _ wouldn’t _ rip into her skin given the chance. Still, he appreciates a tough target and will commend her for that. 

Houndoom, caught off guard, stumbles back. He pulls the girl with her, tightening his grip until he’s right next to the flames. From his mouth, he feeds more fire into the dying pile and watches as it roars to life before them. Even Dom feels a draft of warmth wash over him with the amount of juice fed into it. 

“He will kill her,” Dom warns, watching as Houndoom yanks the girl towards the fire with each step Juniper makes. 

As Dom speaks, he gathers his equipment from his bag. Another gun of sorts, one loaded with a scanner meant to be used as a tracking device in Pokemon Ecology. He’s just repurposed it for his own gains after realizing most of his targets weren’t willing to take part in his experiments. 

“There’s one way to stop him and we both know you’re going to do it,” he aims the gun at her, watching as Houndoom shakes the young girl. 

She’s crying and whimpering, trying to keep her eyes on her mother as though that will really help in this situation. 

Every psychic has a tick before using their powers, at least, if they’ve trained with the Natsume’s they do. These ticks can vary from person to person, some tilt their head, some tap the side of their leg, others will make a sound with their mouth, and some are quiet. 

Dom knows Juniper is about to control Houndoom when raises her hands and pushes them out towards the pokemon. He fires the gun, watching the chip land at the base of her neck and start blinking blue. Nothing visibly changes, but Houndoom does stiffen when her eyes focus on him and the pokemon begins to lower the girl to the ground.

“My, my,” Dom regards her with a raised brow. “How exciting.”

Juniper grumbles, pulling her daughter in close before glancing over at Dom with Houndoom following her lead. He shakes his head with a laugh, did she really think he wouldn’t have a contingency for this? She  _ controls _ pokemon for god’s sake. 

He presses a button on the gun and the scanner sends a shock down her spine. 

“Mom!” the girl cries, falling to her knees beside her collapsed mother. 

“I think I got what I needed,” he grins, checking his phone for the data transmitting from the chip. “Houndoom, burn the place down.”

He slips out of the room, leaving the pokemon to growl at the girl before releasing a plume of fire in the living room. He gets to the dining room when he watches the room shift before him, and hears Houndoom tumble into a wall. 

The floor shifts beneath his feet, causing him to stumble backwards as it falls away and the walls close in. It’s an impossible feat, nothing he’s ever seen before and yet... 

“You!” he rounds on the daughter, her hands up and fingers curled as she glares at him. “Houndoom. Get her.”

The fire type rights itself, snarling at the girl before crossing the room to her, his pounding steps counting down to her last moments. She dare raise a finger against Dom, this will teach her to know her place. Her illusions may be enough to throw him off balance, but there’s no way she can maintain them. 

“Layla!” the father shouts and in a flash of light an Empoleon slams into Houndoom. 

Dom grits his teeth, he should have upped the dose on the man, who knows how long he’s been up and about. “Houndoom, let’s go.”

Empoleon moves to block the way, but Houndoom lifts his head to set fire to the ceiling, his flamethrower fanning out from the spot on the ceiling. There are more screams and Dom wastes no time in using Smokescreen to cover his escape from the house. With the other houses emptying as neighbors fill into the streets, Dom easily slips into the shadows of the yard and moves around the edge of the crowd to get away. 

Everyone’s focus seems to be on the house, but he uses his illusions to change his face as he goes, never sticking with a singular one for too long. Anyone who puts in a statement about him will be confused on whether he had brown eyes or blue eyes. They’ll say there was a blur of faces, both familiar and not so much. Giving him the perfect cover.

The trek to the outskirts of the city takes less than an hour and then a teleport back to the base even less so. He brings Houndoom back to the main office to get sent back to Archer, all the bases are connected through a transfer system much like the trading system used in Pokemon Centers. It helps funnel rare pokemon from place to place for sealing deals and making money. Something Giovanni is impressively good at... 

_ I’ve got to up my standards. Team Rocket, impressive? I’m losing my edge, _ Dom mutters to himself, heading back to his office. 

He sets his bag down, taking out the gun used to chip Juniper to set aside. He has to admit that Team Rocket has good resources. He may have tweaked the gun, but it was a rocket scientist that made the chip disintegrate if exposed to extreme heat. Dom won’t have to worry about it being traced back to him thanks to Houndoom. 

Plopping down onto his chair, he pulls the data from his phone to the monitor and marvels at it. In the few minutes Juniper used her powers, he got plenty of data to work with for this project. The graph reads much like Mewtwo’s does. Her brain waves differ the second she activates her power, the ‘Human Capture Styler’, they called Juniper. Her mind reaches out to pokemon and urges them to help her, it’s nothing long term, and the pokemon aren’t harmed by it. 

She’s one of the first, and few, people with psychic abilities to make it big. The Natsume’s are the another few, their family’s known for being powerful and Sabrina has already made some big strides in her early years. 

Despite his attack tonight, Dom hopes the family survives so they may contribute to his world order when he’s ready to take over. If they don’t... it’s not like they won’t be replaced in the next generation anyway. It’s only too bad they won’t live to see their people rise to the top. 

The monitor dings, finishing the transfer and he settles in. The cogs in his mind are already turning with plans to implement this new information.

“Interesting,” he comments to himself. Seeing everything display across the screen brings a slow smile to his face. “Let’s get this going.”


	3. Escape

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just a reminder that this is the second in a series, the first is Truth Be Told and you'll be a little lost without reading it. More of a background for this one, this will follow the Gen 2 storyline, with a few minor changes. I follow the game/manga/anime loosely to create my own little world. Instead of two years, it's three years between the first generation and the second generation. There will be a third and fourth story in this series, we have a long way to go.
> 
> Thanks for the saves/reviews, I appreciate it and all of you. If there are any questions, feel free to PM me!

Dom glares at Giovanni, the latter pacing on the screen attached to the wall, while the suit of armor for Mewtwo updates. The information garnered from his test at the Ostergaard household was incomplete considering Juniper didn’t do much, but he may have cracked the code to control. Of course, this was going to be the first day of many tests and that’s when Giovanni called him for a meeting. To say he was less than pleased, would be a straight lie. 

Dom _loathes_ interruptions and this is the second time this man has halted his experiments. The first he can be lenient because so much was happening at the time, but now? No, Dom has work to do and he’ll be damned if he doesn’t get to do it. 

“You’re too gentle with it,” Giovanni finally states, stopping to look the other man in the eye. “The grunts have told me the conversations you hold with it, it will exploit a weakness from you.”

“I’m sorry, did you say ‘gentle’?” Dom scoffs, his eyebrows lowering. In all his years alive, Dom has _never_ been gentle with anything. “I assure you, that is the _last_ thing I am with it. I am looking forward to getting the updated armor on it to stop its incessant questions.”

“I hope so,” Giovanni growls. His brow ridge lowers, making him look more intimidating than usual as he regards Dom with derision. “Give it too much insight and it’ll slip away at the first sign of weakness.”

Dom watches the armor emerge from the machine built into the wall, his eyes gleam as its sleek form shines in the light. He glances over at Giovanni, his eyes an array of colors the older man isn’t sure if it’s a trick of the lighting or his own mind. Since his first meeting with Dom, Giovanni isn’t sure exactly _what_ he is, experimented or born this way. There aren’t many that can unsettle the leader of Team Rocket and Dom makes that short, short list easily. 

Even Giovanni’s mother disapproves of Dom.

Still, he trusts the man enough to get the job done and watches as Dom grins. “I won’t give it the chance.”

_**OoO** _

“Alright, Mewtwo,” Dom greets as he enters the battlefield with renewed vigor. 

Knowing what’s to come, he feels a sense of power running in his veins, this pokemon will be at his _fingertips_. Unable to disobey his commands and able to take down cities with the flick of its wrist, they’ll be unstoppable. His dreams are finally about to come to fruition. All the patience and planning has come to this very moment.

It almost puts a skip in his step as he watches grunts form a line opposite the cloned pokemon. They tilt their head at the man, wary of the smile on his face as he crosses the field in long strides. The air in the field is at its usual level of tension, so thick the grunts are getting a bit sweaty and their thoughts louder with anxiety. None of it _bugs_ Mewtwo, per se, they’ve grown used to the wariness of humans in their presence it doesn’t register. 

It does, however, put them on edge. 

For months now, they’ve been suspicious of Dom’s motives. Of Giovanni’s motives too. They would be foolish to think these humans in their strange uniforms and clearly under cared for pokemon were up to anything good. They’re not sure what that means, though, good, bad. They’ve only been in the hands of these humans since he woke up from that terribly dark dream, the dream where he doesn’t remember anything.

Except for a little voice at the back of their mind telling them that life is wonderful...

“Focus!” Dom snaps his fingers. 

Mewtwo returns to the present to find the grunts surrounding them snapping on armor. They try to pull back but the metal jerks their body back into place, their eyes whipping up to Dom’s face as the man grins. A chill slithers into Mewtwo’s stomach, coiling there and growing regarding the human like this, today will be different. They don’t know how or why, but something is definitely _bad_ about Dom.

“Never get distracted in my presence,” the man warns, his voice dangerously low. “I’ve updated your armor. It should be able to keep up with your psychic output. Are you ready for training today? You’ll be on a new level.”

This intrigues Mewtwo, there’s never really any warning about moving up a level, it’s usually just a test of his limits. Then the armor shocks them when they’ve gone too far, to know that they can push themself today, gets their heart racing.

“Yes.”

Mewtwo’s voice causes the grunts to jump, still not used to dual tone voices coming from such a pokemon. High pitch and low pitch evenly together, it’s a bit unsettling when you’re right next to them; it sounds so human and non-human at the same time. Knowledgeable yet naive.

The pokemon takes pleasure in their fear, rattling the armor with a shake of their body to get the humans to back off. 

“Enough play,” Dom snaps, but smiles at the grunts scrambling to get away. “Get to your spots, people. Mewtwo’s got new toys to play with.”

The warm ups begin when Dom gets to his platform and the grunts release their first round of pokemon. Tauros, a herd of them, thundering around the gym, around Mewtwo. As soon as the pokemon lifts a hand, he watches the waves spike on the monitor from their brain and the armor. 

He lets them have their freedom for the warm ups, picking up the herd one by one to taking them on all at once. The pokemon seems to enjoy this display of their strength and Dom does too. It gives him hope that maybe this pokemon will be beside him to usher in the new world he wants to have. A powerful psychic type for the genius psychic, cleansing the world of the weakest links...

_One day at a time_ , he urges himself, watching as the Tauros get recalled and the stronger pokemon come out. 

“Again with these?” Mewtwo scoffs, lifting their head to look at Dom. “Aren’t there more pokemon out there?”

“Humor me.”

The wry smile on Dom’s face does nothing to calm the pokemon, so Dom taps a few keys to send a signal to the suit. The change in wavelength sends a wave of pain through Mewtwo’s head. They grunt, falling to their knee at the sudden gap in their control of themself. For a moment, they can’t recall what they were saying and what Dom did, and so they prep for the fight ahead of them. The moment long forgotten in the pursuit of the next fight.

It worked.

Dom tries not to show too much joy. 

The pokemon obeyed, even if it was just a quick burst of the wavelength. Creating a gap in their memory and pushing obedience.He had warped Juniper’s powers, her persuasion churned into a more aggressive manner. This means not even a pokemon with human-like intelligence can resist it. 

It worked!

Mewtwo takes down the group of Rhydon with little issue and no complaints, the brain activity looks normal and so Dom waits for another moment to test it. Training drags on like normal for an hour more, until it’s time for the dark types to come out. While at the disadvantage, Mewtwo makes due with other attacks such as Shadow Ball and Swift. 

None of the dark types have been able to faint the psychic type, but it’s good to mix it up and challenge the pokemon every now and again. After all, if their psychic attacks are no good, they need a way to defend themself. Though, Dom doesn’t plan on letting them out of his sight anytime soon. 

“Again,” Dom calls from the top when a houndour gets close enough to Bite them. 

The attack itself causes pain in the pokémon’s tail but they fling the pokemon off with a quick flick. A bit of annoyance flares up in Dom at the sight, a houndour of all pokemon getting a hit like that in? Foolish.

“We can’t have you getting slow on us.”

“It was one mistake,” they argue back.

Dom presses the button again, marveling when they tremble against the onslaught of control. “Don’t argue with me.”

_W-what’s happening?_

Mewtwo struggles against the pain, trying to keep their thoughts clear. “Is t-this the armor?”

“What is?” Dom feigns innocence.

“Thi-this pain!” The pokemon gasps, hitting both knees to the ground. “Wh-what are you doing?”

“Maybe we should take a break?” Dom lowers the pressure and steps away from the monitor. “Take a break guys.”

The grunts retreat to the outer parts of the room, near the walls to mutter amongst themselves. Some pity the pokemon, others feel more relaxed knowing they’ll be under Dom’s control and take pleasure watching it writhe in pain at the hands of a human. All these months of watching their beloved partners get tossed around, they’re excited at the thought of change.

Once they’ve cleared the battlefield, Dom sets the computer to follow vocal commands and descends to the pokemon. He schools his mind into clarity as he approaches as a hint of the joy or elation he’s feeling will tip the pokemon off to what’s happening. Until the program is more refined, he’ll have to keep it under wraps. Unless, of course, the pokemon does try to escape like Giovanni says. 

As he approaches, the pokemon flinches as he walks to stand at his back, still not trustworthy of any person standing behind him. Dom smiles at his discomfort as he opens the back of the armor and checks its integrity, pretending to adjust it or tinker with the wires to ‘fix’ the problem. 

Mewtwo pants under Dom’s care, he takes pleasure in it, being able to bring such a strong pokemon to its knees. “What are you doing to me?”

“Nothing, this is a learning curve,” Dom shrugs, tapping the wires inside the helmet a few times before fastening it shut. “Let’s try it again.”

“No,” Mewtwo shakes his head.

Dom grins, stalking across the field. “You don’t have a choice.”

“Do you think you can tell _me_ what to do?” Mewtwo growls, standing up straight. 

At the foot of the stairs, Dom makes a thoughtful face. “Um, yeah. That’s exactly what I _know_ I can do.”

As soon as the words leave his lips, Mewtwo lifts a hand in his direction and he feels his psychic power wrap around him, preventing him from moving. Dom struggles against the invisible restraints, refusing to show fear to the powerful pokemon. He knew it would come to this moment and he’s too excited for it. 

The grunts watch in growing horror, wondering what’s going to happen to their boss and, in turn, them. Fear and anxiety fuel Mewtwo’s rage as they watch Dom smile, a slow, infuriating smile. 

“Computer, cut off Mewtwo’s power,” Dom manages to call out as his feet lift from the ground. 

“What?” Mewtwo’s head lifts in confusion. 

“ **Cutting off power.** ”

The computer's smooth voice rings around the battlefield before Mewtwo doubles over in pain, letting Dom go. He catches himself and jogs up the steps to watch the data come in. He types at the keyboard, lessening it enough to speak to the pokemon and have them understand. This is the moment he’s been building to, since the moment the pokemon was created, it would come to this. A little earlier than expected, but who is Dom to stop the wheels of fate.

“My hand is the one that feeds you, you’ll do well to remember that,” he sneers at them. 

“And you’ll do well to remember, I am _not_ yours!” Mewtwo spits back, calling forth all its power. 

The pressure in the room changes, many of the grunts stumble, some of them heave their breakfast on the floor as Mewtwo draws away from them. A red light floods the room as the alarm blares, his energy reading clearly off the charts. More grunts rush in, screaming for Dom as the man watches the display with awe. 

Mewtwo hits the newcomers first, a few of them disappearing in a powerful Hyper Beam that rips through the back of the base. It breaks through the gauntlets on both arms, the beams emitting from their hands. What doesn’t disintegrate clatters to the floor, a heap of useless garbage in a matter of seconds.

Dom tries to push more waves on the pokemon, only to watch the suit’s power fade as Mewtwo destroys each piece. “No!”

“Sir, we have to go!” A grunt tugs on his arm. “It’s getting too dangerous.”

Another two beams tear apart the sides of the base, the building shaking violently as Mewtwo goes on a rampage. Cement and other debris rain down from above, destroying the battlefield with each hit. Mewtwo’s power forms a bubble of blue energy around their body as they lift into the air and let off a psychic wave. It bears down on them, anyone on their feet hit the ground and struggle to stand.

Dom shoves the grunt aiding him to his feet away to stumble to the computer and get the escape protocols activated. He feels the air around him grow heavy as Mewtwo closes in, not yet finished with him, and he braces himself. There’s no way in hell, he’s going to show fear to this pokemon, this _clone_.

“You’re too cocky,” the pokemon gloats, floating in close. “You never wanted to _help_ me. You built that armor to _control_ me, you and the other human want me for yourself. You, and no other human, will _ever_ have control over me!”

Dom glares up at the pokemon. “We’ll find you and you _will_ be ours.”

“One thing at a time.”

Mewtwo’s eyes glow light blue as they float back up and spread their arms out to their sides. A strip of invisible power tears along the width of the field, striking the walls and ripping them down. Beneath their feet, the ground threatens to rip open and swallow them whole. It’s as if the building and the earth have come alive, seeking revenge. 

Dom has to dodge rubble to get out of the battlefield, some grunts behind him screaming for their friends as they sprint down the hallway. Their screams echo through the chaos, ringing in his ears as he dodges and dives out of the way of the debris.

Bodies lie under rubble, in puddles of blood, their eyes open and soulless. Easy to ignore, Dom dares to stop at his office, it’s not the first time he’s had to destroy everything and start from scratch and it won’t be the last. He keeps a folder of information he’ll need to start over and shoves it into his bag along with some extra files before leaping out the nearest window a couple feet to the ground. 

The HQ was built with stealth in mind, leaving most of the other floors underground with the first and second floor dedicated to Mewtwo’s training. 

He lands with a hard thud, knocking the wind from his lungs, but he forces himself to stumble away. Metal and rock rain down from above, the carnage not yet over once out of the epicenter. Dom manages to get to the tree line, turning back to see the base collapsing into a ball of fire. A blue light shines in the middle before jutting off into the sky, Mewtwo’s outline barely visible as he disappears into the distance.

Dom huffs, his chest heaving with stress and adrenaline, this is the mess he missed the first time. He always wanted to see Mewtwo’s power and now he has; right before the damn pokemon escaped. There’s no way that should have happened with the armor on, he had everything _right there._

In front him, only six grunts manage to stumble towards his space, all of them bloodied and limping. They collapse on the ground, two of them trying to help the worst of them while they wait for orders. 

“Sir?” one of the boys blinks up at Dom. His head is scratched and bruised, his shoulder drooping and bloody. “What would you have us do?”

Dom scans the sky, spotting the two choppers belonging to Giovanni on their way. “Wait for the boss to come.”

He slumps against the tree then, his mind a swirling pit of everything that happened, and how he’s going to get that wretch back. If Giovanni even lets him live after this. As much as Dom hates the man, he was right, he spoke too much to the pokemon when the machines should have done the talking. 

The beat of the rotors becomes hard to bear as they land and a team of water and flying types emerge to quell the flames and smoke. By then, two more of the grunts pass away, leaving four to grieve and quiver on the ground. Dom ignores them as Giovanni stalks up, Persian slithering behind with knowing eyes. 

“What have you _done_?” Giovanni shouts. 

Dom doesn’t even flinch at the acid in his tone, hatred and fury boil within his stomach at the pokemon and the man before him. This was a mess and they’re all to blame, the only difference is that Dom is going to get Mewtwo back and _control_ the little beast.

The crew Giovanni brought works to stop the fire, water type pokemon quelling the flames while flying types dispel the black smoke rising into the sky. 

To contain this blaze is to keep himself safe and out of sight of the G-men. 

“Did I not warn you?” Giovanni continues. “I warned you, you were too gentle with it. Now it’s gone and almost all of my people here are _dead_. Nothing’s left of this place! How do you plan on getting it back?”

Dom hates being scolded. He glares at him. “I’m sure I can track its signal, I know it inside and out. There’s nowhere it can hide. I can do this.”

“Not alone, you’re not,” Giovanni snarls, he snaps his fingers and two grunts appear brandishing guns. 

Dom has no time to react before he’s shot in the shoulders and darkness swirls around him. Giovanni watches him go down with disgust, if you want something done right, you’ll have to do it yourself. He turns to the remaining grunts, fatigue clear on his face as he regards them. 

“Get in one of the ‘copters,” he grumbles, gesturing for more of his team to come help. “We’ll discuss more later.”

They nod, the remaining four hobbling away with the help of the others. The two beside Giovanni roll Dom onto his back, one grabbing his bag while the other clasps a metal cuff around one of Dom’s wrists. 

It takes hours for the fires to die down and the smoke to dissipate, this far out of any nearby towns and cities may have saved Giovanni the trouble of a G-man investigation. He stands before the blackened rubble, his face once more showing his true fatigue. This project had so much potential, now he’s left to pick up the pieces of it. 

He calls out his Rhydon and Nidoking. “Earthquake.”

The pokemon roar and stamp their feet around the area, the Earth cracking and opening up to swallow as much of the building and the bodies into its depth. It’s not the most perfect clean up, but with the isolation, no one will be looking at this marred ground anytime soon.

**_XxXxXxX_ **

**_2007_ **

“This better be good,” Giovanni growls, daring a glance up at Dom. 

It’s been years since the escape of his greatest creation and they’ve barely had the time to recover from the loss of numbers and trust within the organization. Team Rocket had to disappear once more, a common theme with them as they nursed their wounds, and formed a plan to come back. Patience and careful planning were lessons his mother gave him and his brother early on in their career. Despite the fury at being held back, Giovanni knows the outcome will be worth it. 

Now, he watches Dom sit opposite his desk, looking haggard in a Team Rocket uniform and still brandishing his tracker. Since the beginning of their allegiance, Giovanni had enlisted one of his scientists to create it in case Dom turned his back on him. Mewtwo leaving was the last straw and he decided to use it then. Now, if he gets too far from Giovanni, it injects a slow acting poison into his system. Only Giovanni knows the cure and Dom’s already tested it a few times and nearly died enough to know the leader of Team Rocket is serious. 

“Silph Co. is working on a new product,” Dom speaks up, the same hateful look shines in his eyes as he regards Giovanni. “A pokeball with a near perfect capture rate.”

“Why do I care?” he replies with a raised eyebrow. 

He already knows why he should care. That kind of technology is the first of its kind. It’s the kind of jump from the regular pokeball he’s surprised a business such as Silph would announce, or dare to work on. A pokeball a pokemon can’t escape from is a pokeball that takes the pokemon’s power away, even if they used it or modified it, it makes catching Mewtwo a possibility. 

Despite promising to know the pokemon inside and out, Dom lost track of the pokemon a year ago somewhere in the Orange Archipelago. It seems as though it's exploring everywhere it can in the Johto-Kanto area. Giovanni only hopes it stayed close by so they don’t have to completely waste resources going after it. 

“Then what do you propose?” Giovanni interrupts Dom’s explanation with a wave of his hand. “We cannot march through there. We don’t have the numbers, grunt or pokemon, for that.”  
“Well, we sent the squadron to the islands for safety,” Dom shrugs. “I say we go out with a bang. You know that Team Rocket is falling apart, let’s scare the regions, grab the plans and go. You know that it’s best to recoup after the losses we’ve already taken this year.”

Giovanni grits his teeth, yes, his niece and that insolent little boy have really done a number on Team Rocket this year. It’s pathetic and if his mother could see it, she would be furious! A teenaged boy destroying Team Rocket at every turn. Her grandchild, on the side of the G-men, like her son? A disgrace. 

Things always seemed so well done when Madam Boss was around here, Giovanni strives for her kind of control. 

He regards Dom with a raised brow, taking into account what he said and the truth behind it. Team Rocket is becoming nothing more than a laughing stock in the media these days, this can either be their last mission, or the first of many. Either they’ll return tomorrow, or Giovanni will have to take off and lay low to keep out of G-men hands. 

“It’s been a while since I’ve done as you said,” he finally speaks, shrugging and leaning back in his chair. “At the end of the week, we take on the Silph Company and get that Master Ball.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, we know what happens after that, if you've read Truth Be Told, you know what happens at the Silph Co. and if you played Gen 1 in general so yeah. See you next time!


	4. Life Goes On

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I almost forgot to post today lol So, this is where we move towards our main character of this story, Layla, and her POV of what happened. We see some familiar faces in this chapter, and I promise we are getting close to the present time. Stick with me :D

It was supposed to be a normal night after school, dinner with her parents and then a movie night as usual. What Layla didn’t expect was to get attacked by, what she thought was, a rogue Houndoom, then a robber. What he took wasn’t money, or anything, but something to do with her mother. 

It all happened so fast...

She had turned to ask her father a question then  _ crash! _

The glass of the dining room window seemed to explode inward. Shards flew everywhere, raining down on her and her family. Her scream cut out at the sight of a Houndoom leering at them as though it were hungry. She heard a strange sound and saw her father slump to the floor. 

Before she could cry for him, her mother grabbed her by the arm and jerked her back towards the living room. Layla stumbled along trying to make it to the stairs to the second floor, but Houndoom darted past them to block it. His razor sharp fangs snapped at them as she did so. 

Fear clutched Layla’s heart as her mother pulled her to stand behind her, acting as a shield against him. She laid her forehead on her mother’s back, her chest heaving as they backed up to the fireplace. 

In the slight pause, Layla heard footsteps crunch the glass in the dining room and peeked out to see a strange man standing in the other entryway to the dining room. His eyes were dark, as well as his short hair and beard. He stood tall, looming down at them with a sneer on his face, and looked built like an athlete. 

In her training with the Natsume’s, Layla’s work with illusions gives the chance to see through other people’s illusions too. A reason she and Eusine are best friends, his ability to do sleight of hand with the work of a little bit of illusory powers, makes it impossible to trick her. So, when she looked at this man and saw him blurry around the edges of his body, she knew he was using his powers on them. 

Normally, she’d be able to see the true face beneath the fake one, but his... There’s nothing there. 

Like even he forgot who he was. 

“Who are you?”

Layla had never heard her mother speak with such ice in her voice, it sent a shiver down her back as she turned her head to watch the other threat in the room. Houndoom had assumed a hunting posture, bent over his legs, muscles coiled and eyes zeroed in on her. It felt as though all the air in the room had left as her eyes met his and she realized what he wanted to do. 

Her fingers gripped her mother’s shirt harder as the man laughs and Houndoom let out a howl so loud and eerie Layla’s legs started to feel like jell-o. Then fire came tumbling from his mouth and she let out the scream she’d been holding back, clutching harder at her mother as the pokemon leapt through, twisted and wrapped his tail around her ankle. 

She kicked at the appendage, trying to break free, but the pokemon dragged her back and swiped at her. His claws caught on the skin of her left arm, dragging across her arm and causing blood to spurt everywhere. The pain was delayed due to her panic, so Layla kept kicking until it set in. Then she screamed for her mother, while clutching her arm to her chest. 

Her mother bowled the pokemon over, sending her sprawling to the ground with it. The blood felt sticky on her arm and body, and then it started to smear on the floor, Layla’s eyes couldn’t leave the horrific sight. It was as if she was going to watch herself bleed out and die here, like this. 

The next thing she remembers is the pokemon stumbling back, when Layla opened her eyes she saw her mother a little closer than before and recovering from running into him. Houndoom snapped his jaws at Juniper, warning her to stay away from her and Layla felt so much more helpless in that moment. Her head began to swim while her body started growing cold from the blood loss. 

The pokemon barked to get her attention, his teeth gleamed down at her, and his eyes were full of intense flames. Her body stilled on instinct, she’s been caught, the predator has captured his prey. 

There was nothing more she could do. 

“He will kill her.”   
The words echoed in Layla’s head. 

She accepted long ago that working with pokemon would be dangerous. Joy made it clear that she would be attacked and injured in the course of her career. It only made Layla want it more, most wild pokemon don’t understand that they’re being helped and once they realise they’re more likely to back off. Some, however, will not and that’s how she chooses to see Houndoom.

There was a rustling sound from the other side of the room and Layla looked to see her mother focusing on Houndoom. The man spoke, but it was lost in the flurry of motion Houndoom suddenly put her through. His tail tightened on her ankle and lifted her off the ground, giving her a good rattle as if she were a toy. 

Layla screamed out, trying to fight against the pokemon only to whimper when it brought her close to his mouth and bared his fangs more. Her head spun with blood loss, adrenaline pumping through her veins and the erratic breaths she took. She peeked one eye open to see her mother breathing in deeply and moving her arms out around her. When the pokemon stiffened, relief flooded her veins, knowing it would be over soon. 

The pokemon lowered her to the ground as if he were told to outloud, and backed up a few paces so she could roll away and get to mother. Being in her arms, Layla could breathe again, watching with a smile as the Houndoom turned to the man with a growl. She felt pride well up in her, knowing her mother wouldn’t let anything bad happen to her family. 

Then it all changed when the man laughed and Juniper crumpled to the ground from seemingly nothing. Layla knelt down beside her mother, tears blurring her eyes as she shook her mother’s body to wake her up. 

“Mom!”

Anger rose in Layla’s chest at the man and she glanced up to see Houndoom circling her and the man attempting to leave through the dining room. She focused on her breathing and put up an illusion, shifting the floor and distorting the walls. Houndoom fell for it, attempting to find ‘stable footing’ on the disappearing floor only to crash into the living room wall while the man stumbled back into the room.    
“Get. Her.”

Houndoom turned and pounded his feet on the ground to get to her, his massive body barreling down on her only to never connect. Having pushed her face into her mother’s neck, Layla missed seeing her father’s Empoleon blast into the room and knock Houndoom aside. 

“Layla!” her father shouted, running to her side. 

The man tried to leave, calling Houndoom to him but Empoleon moved to stand in the way, his blue eyes angry. In response to a command, the fire type raised his head and set fire to the ceiling, the flames fanning out over the family and threatening to collapse the house. Layla’s scream drew the water type to the family, it’s first instinct to protect them rather than deal with the man on his own. 

There’s a puff of black smoke and the man disappeared, leaving Layla, her father, mother and Empoleon to escape. Preston hoisted Juniper onto his back, gesturing for Empoleon to carry Layla as they dodge the burning debris and burst out into the front yard. Neighbors have already gathered while sirens wail in the distance. 

“Honey, honey,” Preston panted, laying his wife on the sidewalk. “Oh, please. Wake up.”   
Layla curled into Empoleon, tears flowing and still holding her arm close. As the adrenaline faded the intense stinging sensation set in demanding her attention. It was a blurr of shouts as the sirens got closer and the authorities took control of the situation. 

Firefighters showed up, a few of them running into the flames to save the remaining pokemon left in their homes inside. While the rest of the team started to quell the flames, water pokemon and hoses worked full force to contain the blaze. The neighborhood watched in awe, struggling to understand why the Ostergaard family home had been destroyed. 

An accident? Hopefully. 

It felt like hours as the smoke billowed into the sky and the fire destroyed the back of the house. One by one they got loaded into the ambulance, Layla separated from her mother and father’s pokemon so they could tend to her. She tried to fight against the paramedics getting her to lay down and lost, too much blood had left her system and now the world was spinning. 

It felt as though ice set in all over her body while the medics worked over her. Telling each other things she didn’t understand and urging her to stay awake though sleeping felt like a much better alternative. Her father’s face entered her line of vision at some point, begging her to stay with him, but where else would she go?

It was all so strange. 

Then suddenly, she was somewhere different with new faces looking down at her as they were moving. 

Where was her father?

She felt like vomiting. Had she already? She felt like drinking water. Why hadn’t anyone given her water? 

The sharp pain from earlier comes back and Layla succumbs to the darkness looming around her vision. 

_**OoO** _

Layla sits on the hospital bed, dried tears stuck to her cheek, curls in a messy bun and arm aching from the stitches. She feels a little fuzzy from the pain meds, her mind swirling with the events that lead to this. It feels like a dream, one she can’t shake herself out of no matter how hard she tries. 

After passing out the night before, she woke up to see her father and his Empoleon stationed on either side of her bed. She was hungry, nauseous, thirsty and in desperate need of a shower all at once. Only three of those four things could be managed right away and she’s still waiting on that shower. 

That was this morning, now it’s nearing lunchtime and she’s getting restless without her mother close. She’s still asleep but her father assured her that she’s out of the woods and she’ll be up soon. Layla hopes it’s the truth and not a way to placate her for a while longer. 

Her father hands her some Jell-O as the door opens and two men step in, both dressed in suits with ties and shining shoes. Both offer polite smiles as her father stands to greet them first, Layla pulls up the blanket higher while Empoleon leans closer, sensing her discomfort. 

She’s seen more than enough strange men recently, well dressed or not. 

“Sweetie, they’re G-men,” Preston offers, his voice gentle as he returns to the bedside. “They’re here to get a statement from you.”

She glances at her father, thankful he had just been sedated rather than killed, though it didn’t lessen the fear she felt when he got taken away for an exam. They cleared him within an hour of getting here, his blood looked fine and his exam went well. It’s just her mother that’s taking the longest, still passed out and with a healthy CT scan... 

“I’m Wesley Wataru, this is my partner Aaron Lockwood,” the first man steps up to the bed with a kind smile on his face. “We want your account of what happened. The more details the better.”

Layla appraises him with curious eyes. He’s handsome, strong jaw and well kept short, spiky dark brown hair on his head reminds her of heroes in the shows she watches with her mother. There’s a scar down the side of his face, old and pink. It doesn’t detract from his look, only gives him a more tough and mysterious air about him. 

The shocking part is his gold eyes, a color closer to brown but still clearly shining gold. It reminds her of the time before the sunsets, when everything is bathed in a warm natural light. They’re piercing but his kind gaze eases her anxiety as she loosens her grip on the Jell-o cup. 

She looks to her father, usually when details are needed her illusions provide the best way to see that. While training under the Natsume’s, she’s become adept at creating them with little repercussions as they’re training is rigorous. She rarely uses her powers outside of training, just to protect her family and herself in situations she deems dangerous. 

“It’s okay, Pip,” he nods, moving to sit in a chair. He gestures for the men to do the same. “Does a visual retelling count for a statement?”

The two men glance at each other, unsure what he means before shrugging and following Preston’s lead. “We can always get it written down and have you sign it.”

Layla waits for them to be comfortable, suddenly shy under their watchful eyes, she claps her hands to focus. The room blurs a tiny bit before shifting into the dining room, unable to talk while working, she lets the events play out as she saw them. Some parts buzz by due to lapses in her memory, but the man stands clear, except for his face, and Houndoom prowls along the memory as if he were in the room. 

By the end, she’s panting and leaning more on Empoleon. “That’s all I remember.”

The two stare at each other in awe of having a first person account of what happened before gathering their wits. Wesley approaches the bed first, patting her leg as he does so, and offering that kind smile from before. 

“That was amazing, thank you,” he starts out. “We’ll have your father work out the details, if there’s anything else you remember, let your parents know right away. Okay, hun?”

She nods. “Yes, sir.”

He grins at that, gesturing for Preston to join him outside the room while Aaron rounds the bed to take a seat. Layla watches him, curious as to why he looks so forlorn, as if he lost something watching the display. His hair is longer than Wesley’s, but not by much, slicked back with little wisps falling from the front over his forehead. His eyes are a warm brown, the color of the Earth and somehow soothing to Layla though there’s a mix of emotions she can’t understand in them. 

He adjusts the tray of food for her and smiles with his own polite smile. 

“My daughter is a lot like you,” he starts out, when Layla perks up at his words, he grins. “She’s got some strong powers too.”

“Really?” she replies. 

It’s always exciting to hear about another person like her out there, makes her feel less freakish. Her peers at school always bullied her into ‘performing’ for them, believing themselves to be somehow better. Though if she were too rough with an illusion, tricking a kid into falling into the dirt or a puddle, she’d be called a bully.

People were always willing to push her into a corner until she lifted a finger back, and she hated it. It’s not like she did anything with these powers, there was no point... 

Until today.

She needed her powers to keep her family safe and even that failed. 

“Yes,” Aaron responds, breaking her out of her thoughts. “For the longest time, she felt alone about it, like she was a monster. But I think she’s strong, just like you. Trying to save your family, that’s quick thinking, many people don’t react like that.”

“But he still got away, and I put myself in danger,” she says, echoing her father’s words from this morning.

He wasn’t angry, just scared and it wasn’t the first time she’d seen him like that. Preston’s a good father, just easy to worry and Layla knew it was coming the moment he stepped into the room with her. At least one thing stayed the same, so she didn’t get angry as she usually does when he lectures her. 

“That’s true,” he nods. “You did your best and just because it didn’t go your way doesn’t mean it’s your fault.”

“Is that what you tell your daughter?”

He laughs. “Yes. She’s very stubborn. I hope you two meet someday.”

“Me too,” she smiles. 

When Preston comes back, Aaron takes his leave with a nod to Layla to get better. He stands with Wesley at the door as they bid the family farewell, for now, and leave them to heal in peace for the rest of the day. 

With the excitement dying down, Layla finds herself barely able to eat as she falls asleep mid bite, and it’s finally her father pulling the food away so she can sleep. Empoleon chirps softly as she settles into the bed, settling down on the ground next to her bed to ensure her comfort as her eyes droop and eventually close. 

_**OoOoO** _

Days later, Juniper is up and discharged from the hospital to a dilapidated house and not a clue what happened for them to deserve it. The first floor of the home ended up caving in, destroying the rest of the house with it. Very little was salvaged from the fire department and neighbors volunteering to help while the family recouped in the hospital. 

It’s heartbreaking to see what all they had reduced to nothing in a matter of hours and for what? 

The attack was clearly planned, he was looking for something with Juniper’s powers. But why? What did he get from this?

“Do we have to move so far?” Layla’s small voice jolts her from her thoughts. 

Despite the stitches, Layla has been working meticulously to salvage what she can from the fire in the hopes of keeping some memories alive and safe. 

In the hospital, in hushed tones, Juniper and Preston discussed their options with two G-men. Wesley and Aaron as the two men believed Team Rocket to be behind the attack, though there is no definitive proof of it. Having worked with law enforcement before, Juniper is inclined to believe their intuition and was disturbed to know they were acting on their own behalf rather than the organization. 

A sign that something is terribly wrong. 

She had insisted on joining their ranks, which they wanted her to, but only after cleaning their ranks. They have plans and to keep others safe, they don’t want someone new getting pulled into trouble when it can be avoided. Especially if she’s already a target. 

So, with their help, Juniper and Preston managed to find a new home in Cerulean. A cute family home in the outskirts of the town, a quiet neighborhood with adequate security measures. They handled the paperwork and transfers, aiming to keep their family safe, and will oversee the move over there.    
All this was handled while Layla busied herself with homework and some counseling with her school. As much as Juniper would love to stay to ease the trauma of the attack, looking at the remains of their home only reminds her why they have to leave. 

“Your father got offered a nice job in Cerulean, sweetie,” her mother explains. “It’s not that far. I just think it’ll be safer to relocate. They have a Pokemon House I think you’ll enjoy volunteering at.”

Layla’s green eyes light up at the mention of the house. Something her parents knew would be the best way to win their daughter over about the move. Despite the decrease in size when it comes to Celadon and Cerulean, Juniper feels it’s a better choice to live.

Preston joins them soon after with the two men in tow, their faces carefully neutral. He looks tired and ready to sleep for a couple of days. Instead, he greets his daughter with his usual goofy smile and pulls her in for a hug. A gentle one that minds the wound on her arm. 

“Okay, Pip,” he breathes, gesturing to the men. “They’re going to take us to our new house, okay? You remember them right?”

How could she forget?

Instead of saying that, she nods and offers an unsure smile at the men as they regard her kindly. “H-hello.”

Wesley smiles at her, always friendly and always smiling about something, looks relaxed now that she’s greeted them. When they first came by, he was the first to talk to her like an adult, telling her things as they seemed and never sugarcoating for her if he could help it. He’s handsome, even with the scar on the side of his face, it makes him more mysterious in her eyes. Like a hero, able to tame dragons and protect those weaker than him, and right now, Layla feels weak. 

“It’s going to be okay.” 

He says it as if it’s a promise, like he’s going to be with them each day, offering anything to ensure they’ll be happy. Even though she knows he won’t be, she believes him, the fire in his eyes oozes confidence and strength. 

Beside him, a man with a more angular face also smiles. Aaron had been more behind the scenes with everything, but just as kind. His wife sent food with him to feed Layla and her parents while they were in the hospital and then the hotel after getting discharged. While he hasn’t been as forthcoming as Wesley, he’s overseen their treatment and their moving procedures with due care. 

Layla glances up at her parents, both of whom have grim looks on their faces, before facing the men and nodding. “Okay.”

So, the move begins with a teleport to a new city, a new home and, probably, a new life. The sadness of leaving behind the life and friends she knew hangs with Layla. As she goes to a new school, a new counselor and a new room, she doesn’t forget the man with the blurry face nor the Houndoom. Every thought towards the fire type brings with it an onslaught of issues. Trouble breathing, sweat and the feeling that she’s going to get attacked at any moment. It’s eyes always watching her, its teeth waiting to take a bite and the weight of its body crushing her until there’s nothing left. 

At the end of it all, there’s always questions upon questions, burning inside her as she tries to understand it all. 

Why her mother? Who was that man? And what did he get from her?


	5. Heavy Heart

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Got delayed with a lot of things so a late post today! Now we are in the present in the story and we are visiting an old friend. From here, we will move forward and the next chapter you'll be with the main character: Layla. Any questions feel free to message me!

_ Present Day 2009 - Pokemon League _

“Lance, you have to eat breakfast,” Karen says, crossing her arms in the kitchen of his League apartment. “You can’t just skip meals around tournament time.”

“No?” he raises a brow, half joking, half serious.

She rounds the table and pushes him down into a chair. Her Houndoom pushes the chair the rest of the way in, growling when he tries to rise from it. “You’re eating before dashing off to work.”

“Yeah, yeah,” he grumbles, tugging at his cape. She slides the plate of pancakes and bacon at him. “Thanks.”

He pokes at the food, his eyes glancing up to see her watching him with an expectant look on her face. Annoyance flares up in him, knowing she won’t leave until he does as she says, and so he starts eating. The food is good, he just doesn’t have much of an appetite most days, usually opting to eat out somewhere rather than cooking at home. A quality Karen has come to notice and bug him about. 

It comes from a place of caring and so he can’t be too angry with her about it.

“You’re welcome,” she nods after he takes a bite. She sits across the table and pulls out a notepad and pen. “So, registration for the tournament ends tonight. The rooms at the center in Silver Town have all been taken. This marks the third year of that happening.”

“That’s good,” he replies between bites. “How are the Gym Leaders.”

The first year he was surprised so many trainers had decided to participate, and even more nervous that he was going to lose the championship battle and disappoint... A lot of people. It went well and so did the next year, still to his surprise, this year, however, he feels grateful. 

All her hard work is paying off. 

“They’ve all turned in their paperwork, the latter half have put in their vacation requests as new trainers start out in a week or so.”

“Okay, I’ll do those first today.”

“There are new trainer licenses that need your approval too.”

“Is that it for today?”

“Elites have a meeting tonight at six.”

He sighs. “What about?”

“The usual,” she shrugs. “Training regiments, I think Koga wants to challenge Bruno to a match and maybe I’ll challenge you for fun.”

He chuckles. “If you think it’ll be fun.”

“Seriously, though, be there.”

He nods, as much of an answer she’ll get the morning of a busy day. 

The tournament starts tomorrow. By the end of the week, there could be a new champion in town. Lance’s third year and he’s already prepared a speech for both a loss and win, though a loss has yet to happen. Last year, no one got past his Elites both during the tournament and for the month after. It was a strange feeling, he and Karen battled twice to ensure he still had it and even Blue came up to battle him. 

Today, though, Lance considers forfeiting his place. He’s kept it for Serena, something to keep her name in the goodness she deserves, but is he even doing it right? He wonders if she would be proud to see how the regions are after she left. If he loses, he could go find her and take it all back, everything he said that night... 

It still burns him to think about it no matter how many days pass. 

“She doesn’t hate you,” Karen speaks up, it’s clear to see the look on his face has turned grim. 

“I haven’t heard from her since that night,” he sighs. “Clair says she’s having the time of her life in Sinnoh.”

“You believe her?” Karen raises a brow. “I bet she’s lying.”

“Even about the men?” 

Karen laughs. “Especially about the men. Serena never seemed like the type to be... well, like you were.”

It’s true and Lance hates himself for easily believing his cousins lies as if he doesn’t know Serena herself. 

And maybe he doesn’t, and that’s why she left.

“You’re spiraling,” she muses in a neutral tone. “Keep doing this and you’ll devolve.”

He grunts, annoyed at her words because it’s the truth. He’s gone down many dark pathways poring over that night. Gotten himself into some trouble along the way, trouble she and Will pulled him out of. 

He’s ashamed to think about it. 

“Whatever. I just wish she’d reply to my emails.”

“She spent her whole life between you and Clair, you can’t blame her for wanting space,” Karen reasons. “Plus, if she’s in Sinnoh she’s probably in the mountains with no computer or signal on her gear.”

“Yeah, yeah,” he waves it off, finishing his meal. It feels like a hard lump in his stomach. “Let’s go.”

Lance’s work days consist mostly of meetings until it gets to be tournament time. It's time for new trainers applying for their licenses, and coordinators getting their passes. Though the latter is dealt with more through the Contest Association, a newer branch of the Pokemon Association. 

Hoenn introduced the new type of competition a couple years ago and now it’s gripping the rest of the world tight. Many regions have scrambled to get together contest halls as trainer’s applied for passes. Lance remembers the rush to get a new curriculum in for contests as well. Research and experts that have been preparing for the debut for years had come together to release resources for aspiring trainers. It was a rush, but thankfully it’s done.

Lance has no interest in them, however, he appreciates the skill required to create such beautiful displays of power. 

In his office, he approves the vacations of the latter four gym leaders in both regions as their schedules will be clear as the tournament starts. Trainers starting in Kanto or Johto, must finish that league’s 8 gyms. After the tournament they’re welcome to travel to the next region’s gyms and battle their respective gyms in whatever order. 

Most trainers take this option with 63%, overall, taking the challenge. Some have scheduled a battle with the Elite Four after that and very few have made it to Lance. 

None have won.

He keeps hopeful, however, that he’ll get defeated and a new champion will reign. Looking at the licenses in front of him he wonders if it will be one of these new trainers, a year down the line a different person than they are now. Will they be the ones to set him free? It makes his stomach turn with an uneasy feeling to think about it. 

What would he say to her?  _ Could  _ he even find her? 

Training under Aaron, Lance wonders if she could avoid him for as long as she wanted. He’s been groomed to hide from a young age due to his family’s legacy. It wouldn’t surprise Lance if he passed on some tricks to her. 

He forces himself to the present when Houndoom nudges his chair with her body. He signs the documents and packs them into their envelopes to get sent back to Pallet and New Bark Town. Karen takes the mail and disappears to do just that while Lance busies himself with his email. 

His mind slips into a buzz as his day goes by, responding to each email and prepping future meetings. By the time it’s six, he finds himself in the Elite meeting room looking out the window at the range of mountains making up Mt. Silver. Its peak hides in the clouds gathered in a thick layer in the sky. He thinks of that boy Red from two years ago and the rumor of him leaving Kanto to train at the mountain’s peak. 

_ Why don’t you go follow Red... _ he tenses at the echo of his words haunting him still.

“Oh, Lance!” Will greets, bursting into the room with his usual grin. 

Despite his painful memory making him ache, he manages to turn and smile at the psychic type user. Over the years, he’s grown fond of Will and his peppy attitude, seeing him as something of a younger brother. Something he never thought would happen in a million years until he realized Will uses his peppyness as a coping mechanism. 

There’s more to him than he wants people to see and he does it well. 

“Hi, Will,” he smiles in greeting. “Ready for the meeting?”

“Of course.”

The other three enter and get settled in while Lance starts off with an update on the trainers registered for this year’s tournament. It’s going to be a tense time as the trainer that wins the tournament can challenge the elites, and they’ll be followed by the rest of the trainers two weeks following the winner’s last match. As usual, they don’t seem fazed by the news, and Lance feels confident in the team Serena put together,  _ his _ team.

They’re by no means a perfect happy family, but they’re reliable. 

Karen’s word rings true as Koga challenges Bruno for after everything’s said and done with the tournament. A good way to sharpen their skills and see if the order can switch. Koga’s been aiming high since getting his promotion, though he knows the man wouldn’t take the champion job as it’ll take too much time away from his daughter. Bruno is more go with the flow, than the others more focused on his own goals and strength.

Will requests time for a vacation while Bruno wants to train in the Sevii islands after his match with Koga. Lance tries not to glance at Karen as she remains silent during their requests, she’s been sticking around so much lately and he doesn’t want to dwell on the fact it’s to take care of him.

He approves their time off and the meeting adjourns after that.

By 7:30pm, Lance heads to the G-men HQ down below the league to check on his father. He still feels in awe of the League building even after two years of it being built. While Serena had some say in the design, it still feels like her brain-child, and therefore, he has to take good care of it.

Normally, he stops by well before 6pm, but today’s meetings got too long. Another reason for his visit is his father usually stops by at some point after lunch to check in and he didn’t today. Some part of him wonders if that means trouble is ahead or, as the lesser part says, he forgot.

The entryway to the G-men offices looks like a spaceship entrance. Bright lights, white walls with gleaming, silver metal lines running along the hallway. The front desk is a half moon shape, flanked by security guards leaning over the desk chatting with the two staff members at the desk. 

He scans his badge at the front desk, nodding to the staff before ducking into the main room. The hum of the computers and hardware welcomes him, the scene still out of a spaceship. 

The bottom floor holds most of the desks for computer techs, including Clyde the head tech, with their monitors humming peacefully. The wall facing him holds several monitors, some asleep while others show a map of Johto and Kanto. Along the sides of the room, lofted above them, sit offices of higher ranked agents. His father being the Director, Lance climbs a stairway to see his office at the end of the second floor.

“Hey, son,” Wesley greets with a smile. “Did you have a good day?”

Lance shrugs. “It was work. What about you?”

“Things are going smooth as we transition to tournament time,” his father yawns, leaning back in his chair. “The uptick in the usual crimes caught some police departments off guard, but nothing major.”

The door starts to open and Lance steps aside, his gazing averting quickly when he sees it’s Aaron, Serena’s father. His arms cross and he backs to the side of the room closest to the far edge of Wesley’s desk. Shame and regret churning in his stomach as he feels Aaron’s eyes on him. 

The dark haired man grimaces at Lance’s insistence to stay out of sight and out of mind with him. There’s no bad blood between them at all, he’s long since gotten over his daughter’s departure, especially as it’s been two years and she has been happy on her own. This distance between them is good, it’s what they needed no matter how miserable the champion seems now. 

That’s just the consequences of Lance’s actions and there’s nothing Aaron can, or will, do to ease them from what he’s already done. 

“Hello, Lance,” he greets the boy with a nod. “Checking in on your old man?”

“Yeah, just seeing what trouble there’s been today,” he responds with a polite nod. “Nothing new, or anything that needs investigating?”

Wesley catches the difference in demeanor and feels bad for his son, the shame he must feel even after all this time. However, he knows it’s simply a consequence of his own actions. He’s grown since the start of his Champion career, considerably even, but he still has a ways to go. 

“Nothing yet,” he answers his son. “Go home and rest.”

Lance makes a noncommittal sound. “Okay. Night, guys.”

Once the door shuts behind him, Wesley turns to Aaron as the latter sits down in front of his desk. They look tired, but much less stressed than they were as mere agents of the G-men. Now they have more freedoms, and more control on the agents and their jurisdiction around the two regions. Since the ousting of their past bosses, they’ve had a better time looking into Team Rocket and everything they covered up for the villainous team. 

“He’ll come around,” Wesley breaks the momentary silence. “He just feels bad still.”

“I swear I’m not guilting him when you’re not looking,” Aaron laughs with his best friend. “That boy... He’s like a son to me and I see why I’m lucky to have a daughter.”

“Yeah. Serena’s my daughter too, and Clair even if she hates Lance’s guts,” Wesley jokes along with him. “I’m pretty sure we raised them all right, but I can’t be confident.”

Aaron groans running his hands over his hair. “Did we do this to them? Are we bad parents?”

“Kaida says, we prepared them for what the world would throw their way. What happens after that, is all on them,” Wesley provides in a soothing tone. There’s a short pause before he takes a breath. “Where is she?”

“She called just a few weeks ago from Sinnoh,” Aaron smiles. “She sounds happy. So far, it’s been a dead end, but she isn’t giving up yet.”

“That’s our girl,” he smiles. “Will she ever talk to Lance?”

Aaron shrugs. “She was devastated by what he said, but she’s on her own out there. I think she’s really enjoying this time for herself, and can you blame her?”

Wesley couldn’t. Not really. 

Serena had been given life’s most sour lemons and she made lemonade, as Elijah said years ago. For her being out on her own, no Lance or Clair to mediate, no meetings to attend or work to do: he couldn’t be more elated to hear she’s happy. To see her flourishing from her own knowledge and experience. 

Even among her happiness, she’s still working towards the answer to what her Uncle did to her and that commands his respect. She’s a force to be reckoned with and the pride that swells in his chest at the thought must pale in comparison to Aaron’s. And she must be strong to face her Uncle and find the cause of this curse he’s given her. 

A curse she’ll never escape as long as she is alive. 

While he doesn’t approve of what Lance did, it’s what the two needed to grow up, regardless of the pain Lance is in. Not all of life’s lessons are gentle, he hates to see his son in pain, but nothing Wesley can do can mend his broken heart. 

“No, I can’t,” he sighs, turning back to his computer. “I really can’t.”

With Lance, he makes his way towards the front entrance and lets Ryu out of his ball. The April air is cool as a breeze filters through, offering him a whiff of the flowers to bloom and freshly cut grass. Moonlight illuminates Mt. Silver to the West, and its mountain ranges curling around to the North and East. 

He can see the hints of snow at their peaks and shudders at the thought of winter up there. Winters in northern Johto and Kanto are harsh enough, but near the peak of a mountain? He couldn’t even imagine. 

Ryu croons at his trainer, nudging his back with his wing. “Brao?”

“Yeah, I’m fine,” Lance sighs, reaching up to pat his Pokémon’s cheek. “Want to take the long way home?”

The resounding cry gives Lance his answer, the dragon tamer grins at his pokemon, his best friend, and hops on his back. There are moments he feels like he’s drowning in failure, Ryu’s constant happiness at his trainer’s efforts, are a lifesaver, keeping Lance afloat.


	6. When The Tide Comes In

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is just to set ground work for Layla, introduce her, her family and some other characters. I want this story to have more groundwork built and be centered more around the characters and how they interact with each other.

Layla stares at the ceiling, her childhood room no longer the cute whimsical design it had been when they moved in years ago. She used to hate this room, it was nothing like her room in Celadon, it didn’t have the same bed or the same layout. It didn’t matter that this one was bigger, it wasn’t home to her. 

Since moving to Cerulean, her parents have downsized to a cute three bedroom home in a suburb still on the outskirts of the city. Her parents weren’t ever really ones for life in the inner city, preferring some sort of connection to nature. Their backyard, for instance, has a creek flowing through it. 

After her parents let her paint the room and get whatever she wanted for it didn’t ease the transition either. It took a few more years before she could even be comfortable with what happened. Many therapy appointments and long talks with her parents about how they’re not giving up on finding the man and how they’re going to see it through encouraged her. 

Still, it hurts. 

Her eyes glide over the loveseat by the window, the matte chestnut bookcase against the jade green wall. What was once a childish daydream of a room, pink with stuffed animals littered on the floor, is now an adult’s typical bedroom. Single color walls with an accent on the trim and functional furniture. A guest bedroom. 

The physical difference doesn’t erase the fact she used to stay up at night terrified the man would come through and set this house on fire too. How many nightmares did she have about red eyes and a cold howl. 

A small, tired, chirp catches her attention and Layla sits up with a yawn. Her limbs pop as she reaches for the sky and gazes down at her Prinplup. Pocha, the gift her father gave her soon after moving here. He had his Empoleon bred for him, considering how close Layla is with his pokemon, he thought it would be best. The two actually didn’t get along at first and it broke Preston’s heart. Then Layla nearly drowned in the nearby creek and only Pocha could help her. 

They bonded and now he stares up at her with narrowed eyes, clearly not a morning pokemon as much as she isn’t either. 

“We’ll be heading home today, bud,” she attempts to soothe his sour mood, scratching her Pokémon’s chin. “Ready to be back in Celadon?”

He huffs, indifferent to leaving her parents house, considering how spoiled he gets while he’s here. The diet she carefully watches over to ensure he’s at least in fighting shape, goes out the window as soon as he steps through her parent’s door. She supposes that’s what they’re for and what they’re going to do, no matter her protestations on it. 

His indifference is her signal to get up and get ready. 

Six isn’t the ideal time to get up, but her parents have work and she wants to see them off before she goes home. Her father works in Cerulean as a Pediatrician while her mother works with the G-men. When Layla was younger, her mother opted to stay at home and care for her, but after the incident she realized she needed to follow through on the investigation. Though, she wasn’t allowed in until it’s reformation after the trouble with Team Rocket two years ago.

Layla tosses on some ripped skinny jeans, a belt and a loose deep blue t-shirt. Folding the sleeves she eyes the scars on her arms. Light pink marks on her left elbow trailing up her forearm. A grisly reminder of that night years ago, when her family’s life changed drastically and then... went back to normal.

She brushes off the onslaught of memories in favor of tying back part of her curly hair to keep out of her face. She returns to her room to pack her duffel bag. It was just a simple visit, taking a break from work to relax for the weekend. Now that it’s over, she doesn’t look forward to returning to Celadon. 

Pocha follows after her as they head down the stairs to the kitchen. 

Coffee brews in the coffee maker, the timer set the night before, and she breathes in its earthy scent. The smell of coffee always gets her smiling, no matter what time she’s awake in the morning. Her stomach rumbles as she pads through the kitchen to the back of the house. 

Before breakfast, Layla heads to the backyard to care for her family’s pokemon. 

She lets out her Misdreavus, Belle, and her Pidgeot, Aves with Pocha into the yard with her mother’s Weavile, Medicham and Noctowl. Her father’s pokemon, an Empoleon, Vileplume and Leafeon, gather for their food as well. She greets them all by name and with pats on their heads before scooping their food into bowls. 

Once all their bowls are spread, the pokemon dig in without a care in the world, allowing Layla to leave them to their business. If issues arise, Empoleon and Weavile will handle it as they’ve done before. 

Inside, she gets some pans and bowls out to make omelets and hash browns for breakfast. She grabs an apron, ties it on and gets to work with a hum. It takes a few minutes for the aroma of bacon and coffee to liven up the house. Its smell drawing in warmth and rousing the inhabitants upstairs.

In no time her father comes down the stairs dressed in his usual button up and slacks for work. He’s a lanky man with a mop of light brown hair and bright green eyes. For all of Layla’s life, it’s been her and her father doing things together. Same eyes, similar personalities, they’ve always had a good relationship. Only made stronger since that night they were attacked.

“Morning, Pip,” he greets her with a kiss on her temple. “Thanks for getting up early to care for everyone.”

“Sure thing,” she smiles, gesturing to his coffee mug. “Coffee’s ready.”

He pours himself a cup, clicking his tongue. “What would we do without a daughter like you?”

“Not get a good breakfast in?” She raises a brow, whipping up the eggs with a splash of milk. 

“That too.”

She chuckles, continuing her cooking until her mother comes down dressed in black pants, boots and a white blouse under a blazer. Layla gets most of her features from her mother. Her dark skin, her dark hair color and curls. Her mother’s hazel eyes are much sharper than Layla’s forest green ones, often catching people off guard when she smiles. 

“Morning,” Juniper greets her family with kisses. “I see it’s our last day of Layla visiting. A shame, really.”

“Yeah, you’ll have to cook for yourself. Dad already attempted to guilt me into staying,” she laughs, setting out the plates of food on the island. “There’s probably a huge mess or me to clean up at work anyway, lord knows I can’t leave without everything falling to shit.”

“Honey, we’ve talked about this,” Juniper grunts, fixing her own cup of coffee before joining them at the island. “You have what it takes to move to Olivine and just wait until applications open up.”

“No thank you,” Layla shakes her head. “Why just sit around and wait, when I could work and gain some sort of relevant experience, and money, in the meantime.”

Juniper and Preston share a glance over their daughter’s head, this is always how the conversation goes with Layla. The downside to having a kid is whose stubbornness she gets from her mother means they always but heads in the end. Preston has learned to just shrug and carry on with his meal to avoid being the bad guy. 

“It’s whatever your want, honey,” Juniper concedes for the moment. “Thanks for feeding the kids too.”

“Of course.”

The three finish eating, her parents discussing their day ahead of them and what errands need to get done before the stores close tonight. Layla makes her own list of things to do, such as shopping and making a meal for work tomorrow. Preston gathers the dishes into the dishwasher, before grabbing his lunch from the fridge, his case files for work and his coat. Juniper does the same, the three of them heading out to the yard to gather their pokemon. 

“Be good,” Juniper kisses her daughter’s head. “Let us know when you get home. Tell Eusine we say hi too.”

“Will do,” Layla replies, she hugs her father. “Have fun at work.”

“Always,” he grins, tweaking her nose. “Bye, Pip.”

“Bye.”

Her father gets in the car and takes off down the road to the inner city where the hospital lies. Juniper uses a league pokemon, a perk of working there, to teleport her to work. She’s gone in a flash, leaving Layla to take a deep breath at the course her life has taken, a normal course. 

Not that she’s mad, it’s just... there’s been no word as to what happened and who attacked them. No calls from Aaron or Wesley since, and no news from her mother about it and it’s always bugged her. However, to keep her safe, it wouldn’t surprise her if her parents were keeping secrets from her. 

Aves swoops down from the backyard and lands a few feet away, jarring her from her thoughts and she shoves them away. It’s been years since it happened and it’s time she’s moved on too. If it was a one time thing, then so be it... He hunches over to let her on and she does so, then he grabs her duffle bag with one foot to take off. 

The flight to Celadon city takes about two hours with good wind conditions. It’s a trip over vast forests and flatland clearings as Aves flaps his wings overhead. It’s a beautifully cloudy day, big fluffy clouds race overhead as the land stretches below them. Spring takes over the land, color slowly blooming through the puddles of melted snow and dead foliage.

The season of new beginnings, so fitting with the start of another challenge year on the way. Contests included. An addition to competition Layla is ecstatic for, a new form of battling involving a new set of skills. She can’t wait to watch them during insane shifts at work.

_ Ugh, work. _

Celadon comes into view, bringing with it a mixture of emotions, its buildings reaching for the sky. The windows shining the reflection of the sun, a beacon to where civilization has sprung up amongst the earth. A beautiful sight, but one that brings a chilly ball of anxiety to Layla’s stomach. 

While Layla doesn’t mind her living conditions, seeing the city itself brings that ball of anxiety to her mood. She blames work, the Daycare Center in the northern part of the city isn’t as lavish as it looked when she applied. As Aves descends towards her apartment, Layla shakes off thoughts of work considering it’s her last day off for a while. 

She wants to enjoy that for a little longer. 

“Thanks for the ride, bud,” she pets her pokemon. “Rest up.”

Shouldering her bag, she wanders into the building, stopping to get her mail from the mailroom on the way. She lives on the fifth floor, towards the end of the hall, with a pretty nice view of the city too. Inside her apartment, Layla isn’t surprised to see Eusine sprawled on her couch with a bowl of ice cream in front of him. In fact, her heart warms at the sight of her best friend. 

“Houdini!” She cheers, kicking off her shoes and letting her bag drop. “Isn’t it a little early for ice cream?”

“Never,” he huffs, picking up the bowl to place in the kitchen. He wraps his arms around her. “You’re out of milk and eggs.”

She laughs. “Yes, I know. I’ll go shopping later.”

“How are your parents?” He muses, taking her bag from her to bring to her room.

“They’re good, going through life as usual. They say hi,” she shrugs, following to separate her clothes into her hamper. 

He nods an acknowledgment, leaning against her door as she organizes her things. “Did they convince you to quit?”

“No,” she shakes her head. “I just don’t want to think about it right now. The tournament is coming up and we’ll be busy with all the rich folk that are going to be in town for vacation to watch all these battles.”

“We just want you to be happy,” Eusine sighs. 

“I  _ am _ happy,” she turns back to him, sitting on her bed. “I know that it’s not the ideal job I want, but it’s something. It’s not forever, My name is on the registry, I’ll get a call soon.”

“You don’t know that,” he shakes his head. “You could just apply and learn on the go.”

She mimics his motion, her frustration growing. “I’ve had my license for a long time. Just passed exams to practice one year ago, since then I’ve had little luck getting a job. I want more experience before I apply to the apprenticeship in Olivine.”

It just makes sense to her. She should have a certain amount of knowledge on pokemon to be able to work in a center. She’s half way there with the jobs she’s taken between passing her exams and now. 

The day care center is just a little hiccup. 

“I’m not here to argue,” he sighs. “I’m glad you’re back.”

“I know, Eusine,” she responds with a half smile. “I promise I’m not going to stay there forever.”

He nods, half accepting her words before gesturing to the living room. “So, are we hanging out today or what?”

Layla’s mood lifts at his words and she hops off her bed to follow him to the living room. It’s tradition after he’s been searching for legends in Johto and she comes back from visiting her parents, they settle for their favorite show, a terrible soap opera, dinner and then movie night. 

Usually Layla cooks, but this time they order pizza and laugh at cringe moments in a rom com they’re watching. So has been their routine for a couple of years now and Layla would be damned to change it all so soon. 


	7. Restless Heart

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter we get to know Layla a bit more, her personality, faults, etc... Some familiar names come up and some new ones ;)

There were a lot of things Layla was prepared for when she got her Nursing degree, but essentially running a daycare when she was just an attendant was _ not _ one of them. Especially the final day of the tournament where all the uppity people are going to parties and leaving their pokemon in the Daycare’s hands. Even though they're technically  _ not _ a boarding service, Camden cannot say no to more money. 

“Okay, ma’am,” Layla drones on the phone listening to a complaint. Her eyes follow one of the staff playing with some pokemon and longs to join them. She’s not even sure what the conversation is about anymore, just that she wants this woman to hang up and fast. “I’ll be sure to take it up with the manager.”

“I thought you  _ were _ the manager?” the woman’s scorn can be felt in waves. 

Pinching the bridge of her nose, Layla scrunches her face to fight against the oncoming headache. “No, ma’am. I’m just an attendant, the manager is out on business right now.”

“Well, you let him know everything I told you!” the woman shouts before hanging up. 

“Ugh!” Layla smacks the phone back into the cradle. Her head thunks onto the desk. “I loathe people.”

“That’s why you’re here right?” Elise giggles, coming over to hang on the counter. 

Annoyance spikes in Layla and she sits up. “I may be paid well, but not well enough for this shit. Where is Camden?”

“Went out to lunch,” Elise replies, heading back to break up a fight between two Meowth. 

They’re siblings and often their play gets aggressive when they’re too hyped up. Elise uses a squirt bottle to break up the fight, the feline pokemon hissing and darting away from the unexpected moisture. Peace returns to the play area, leaving Layla to glance towards the clock with a scowl.

“Yeah, an hour ago,” Layla mutters to herself.

She writes up the complaint on a post-it and leaves it on Camden’s folder to find later. Pushing away from the desk, she stands and stretches her back, grimacing at the aches it causes while turning this way and that. She’s getting too old to be working all his responsibilities with none of the benefits.

_ A job’s a job, _ she reminds herself.

Daycare work in Celadon isn’t a bad job, either. Taking care of rich people’s pokemon all day gets them paid handsomely and it looks good on her resume. The only problem is that management sucks and the other workers aren’t held as accountable as she is. Ever since she took over the reception job as well as the attendant job, Camden hounds her for her service. One thing is out of line, he’s pulling her to his office to scold. 

He’s also been lax on his own job, who takes lunch for more than an hour?

The thought leaves Layla as she gathers all the paperwork for the pokemon present today, over 30, and grabs an attendant to help with exams. Part of their daycare package is an exam, and grooming. For this many pokemon, Layla tried to implement a different system to account for overflow, but Camden wasn’t concerned. Again, anything that makes him more money he doesn’t care about the specifics...

Elise flips on the tv to watch the tournament continue on.

The trainer made it through Will and Koga yesterday, today they’re fighting Bruno, third in the lineup. The fighting type master looks intimidating on screen, he’s been part of the Elite Four for years now. A familiar face on the screen as he directs his pokemon through the field. His battle style reminds Layla of the Champion, Lance’s, straightforward as if daring trainer’s to meet them head on. 

Layla doesn’t mind the background noise, even some of the pokemon gather to watch the screen. Though she isn’t sure how much of it they actually understand, she gets they might just enjoy the sparks fly and bodies move during a battle. 

One by one, Layla does her job, her mind eventually losing its bite towards work as she enjoys each pokemon’s personality. Pokemon that come from big headed, rich business men and women tend towards a snobbish nature. It isn’t until you dig a little deeper, and gain their trust, do they warm up to a person. 

Even now, as she checks a well known designer’s Ninetales, the pokemon ignores her until she hits his usual spot. A couple scratches under the chin and he’s like a puddle in her hands, grumbling affectionately and pressing his warm body against hers. It makes her giggle and she urges him over to the attendant for his brushing. Almost immediately, he’s back to his snobbish self, turning his nose up at the attendant as she coos at him. 

“These pokemon adore you,” the girl, Liza, grunts. 

Layla can’t help but laugh at Liza’s glare at the pokemon refusing even the slightest bit of affection. When he looks over at her though, the Ninetales rumbles again, his tails swaying softly as if in a breeze. 

“They’ll love you too,” Layla hums, checking a Growlithe’s ear for mites. “Give it some time.”

“I’m not sure what Camden would do if you left,” Liza admits after a struggle to put Ninetales’ collar back on. “Please don’t, by the way. We would drown.”

Layla sighs, ruffling the fire type’s fur. “I won’t without warning, but I need to do what’s best for me.”

She leaves it at that, though the words don’t feel as true as she wishes they were. It’s been a couple years since she moved to Celadon, and now she feels as though this is where things grow stagnant. So much happened to her in this city, it feels strange to even think about leaving it behind. It has made her into the person she is today, scars and all.

Her thoughts get drowned out by the cheers from the TV, a pokemon goes down at the hands of Bruno’s Hitmontop, and focuses again at the task at hand. 

While it’s not the rush that would come with working at a Pokemon Center, she’ll take what she can get.

Pickups for pokemon not staying the night usually come around 6pm and as the time nears, Layla feels no surprise Camden hasn’t returned. She wastes no time in taking charge for the night, something she’s grown accustomed to in the past few years working here. The other attendants aren’t here full time, nor are they looking to stay in the job long term, and so, have little issue with her doing so. 

While the battle rages on the screen, clients start to file in, one by one. Most want to chat about the tournament, or ways the place could improve their care, but Layla brushes off their conversation in the hopes they’ll leave sooner. 

“I can’t wait for the contest season to start up!” One woman raves as Layla prints out her receipt. “That Autumn gal is such a sight to behold, don’t you think?”

“Actually, yeah. I love her displays,” Layla replies, allowing herself to delve into a short conversation, but not for long. 

More owners enter the lobby and she ushers the woman off with a smile. 

As Layla takes payments and does returns the attendants do clean up. Spraying down the rooms the pokemon stayed in, gathering the blankets and such for laundry and closing out notes on each pokemon in their computer system. As much as Layla hates some parts of the job, the system they have going for them is as efficient as what she’s seen in Centers across the region.

While they clean, a few of the staff pass by the TV to shout updates on the battle here and there. Not one for battling, Layla only replies every once in a while with a comment of her own. She’s never had an interest in the league challenge or anything like that. Though, she supports whatever trainers want to do as long as they do it right. 

The pokemon that’ll be left overnight get put in their kennels with their things and everyone gathers as the last pokemon on Karen’s team goes down. Her Houndoom lets out a final cry, much to Layla’s chagrin as a shiver runs down her back.

She tries to keep personal feelings out of her work, but it’s nearly impossible with a Houndoom. Just seeing the pokemon on a screen makes her skin crawl and her heart race. Her hand flies up to her scars hiding under her under armor shirt, as though it’ll get bigger just looking at the pokemon. 

“Wow,” Elise breathes. “I never thought I’d see it. The Elite Four are so strong, sometimes I think they’re too strong.”

“Or maybe trainers are getting weak,” Alex pipes up, gathering her things. “Whatever it is, I am looking forward to seeing Lance on my screen tomorrow.”

Elise grins. “Me too. He can be my champion any day.”

“You guys,” Layla groans. “Keep it in your pants.”

They laugh, Elise grabbing her bag and water bottle. “Layla, you can’t tell me Lance isn’t easy on the eyes.”

“Oh, he is,” she retorts. “I have a poster of him at home.”

There are more peals of laughter from them as they finish up the closing list and clock out at the monitor. Layla watches them do so with longing. Since Camden hasn’t returned, the paperwork and financial stuff from the day is left to her, though it’s not in her description. She struggles with letting it go undone and would rather have a glowing recommendation than a regular one. 

She watches them go with a short wave before settling at the computer to close out the register and prepare everything for the next day. The time alone is nice, though, it lets her come down from the high of working. Her brain, usually spinning with her to-do list, finds a calming rhythm in counting the money and returning emails. 

So as she clocks out and closes out of the program, she feels less annoyed and more tired. 

The day’s not done yet, though, and she holds back a loud groan as Camden sidles up to the door right before 7pm. 

“Layla!” he greets with a smile.

His brown hair is swept to the side, his dark large brows raised as he grins in such a fake manner she wants to smack it off his face. He’s definitely charmed a lot of people with that smile, including Layla when she first started. Now, she knows what truly lies underneath, what kind of scum bag he really is.

“Hi, Cam,” her voice comes out flat.

It wasn’t always like this.

When she started here a couple years ago, he was more attentive to his duties and urged everyone to take equal share of the work. There’s no clear time when it changed, she had noticed some things he’d missed and filled in as a team member should, and then suddenly, she was doing everything. It wasn’t until her best friend had pointed it out to her that Camden was doing it on purpose so he could slack off. 

“Come on, tell me what I missed,” he gestures for her to lead the way to the office.

He’s a tall man with a medium build, almost athletic though she saw him run once and wondered if his body was falling apart at the seams. His long brown hair is usually back in a ponytail that curls at the end. Sometimes he has a beard, other times he’s clean shaven and wears glasses. He looks like a regular guy, but all she sees is a dickhead. 

She holds back a sigh as she follows after him to his little office tucked away in a corner of the daycare. The routine is the same as always, she sits at the chair and waits for him to log into his computer and pull up the records from today. A promising start, but it never goes past that. 

His idea of these meetings is ignoring her explanation of how the day went, not caring about the complaints and pickups. She feels ire build in her stomach watching him brush off her words, why pull her into this meeting if he didn’t care? 

She’s hungry and ready to get home. 

“Are you still looking over the finances?” he asks after a quiet moment of him staring at his computer screen. 

“Yes,” she answers quickly, grabbing her purse. “I’m going to head out so I can get to those at home.”

“Alrighty,” he shrugs, as if wondering why she didn’t say that earlier. “See you bright and early.”

“I’m off tomorrow,” she responds, shutting the door behind her. 

It takes all her resolve not to twist around and blow off all the steam she’d been holding in all day in his face, but the day catches up and she feels exhausted enough already. With a sigh, she makes for the elevators to the ground floor and exits the building. Celadon the night of an Elite Four loss is bustling with people loudly picking apart each battle and boasting about how they could do better. 

Some people love the Elite Four while others hope a fresh batch will be coming in soon. Layla doesn’t really care either way, the group they have now are well rounded and have good morals for trainers to look up to. That’s all she’s really cared about when it came to a League so publicized and popular, though other regions take it way farther than Johto or Kanto do.

She keeps her head down as she passes a few bars buzzing with drunkards as she comes upon her apartment building. Usually she gets Aves to fly her home, but the cool spring air in Celadon soothes her nerves as she types in her code and passes the security house with ease. 

Once inside, she checks her mailbox to find it empty and smiles, knowing just who got her mail for her. She practically skips to the elevator ready to take her up to the fifth floor and whips out her key once at the end of the hall. Some cooking, eating and talking with her best friend is all she craves after today.

“Oh, Layla!” a voice greets her as she enters her home, tossing her bag and shoes aside. 

“Eusine!” Layla grins. It turns into a frown as she walks into the kitchen to find him sprawled on her countertop looking sad. “I just cleaned that this morning!”

“You were supposed to be home two hours ago,” he pouts, ignoring her complaining and sliding off the counter. “What the hell?”

“Camden,” she rolls her eyes and picks up the stack of mail he brought up. “I’m going to cook, now.”

“Let’s order takeout,” Eusine perks up. “Then you can bitch to me about your boss. I love hearing it.”

She sets the mail aside with a groan. “I want to cook, Eusine. I’m surprised you want takeout instead? Sick of my cooking?”

“Never,” he shakes his head vigorously. “I’m just starving and it would be faster.”

“Patience is a virtue,” she holds up a finger.

“Fine, fine,” he relents with a dramatic groan. “No one’s ever accused me of being virtuous...You should just quit. Destroy the place and walk out.”

“As much as I want to, I want to have a good record when I move to a different place,” she responds with a laugh. She gets out some pots, wine, beef and vegetables. “Beef stew?”

“Yes, it was chilly today,” Eusine grins. “Mom sent over some lemon Blukberry cake, it’s in your fridge.”

“Perfect dessert,” she beams. 

As Layla sets about cooking, she updates Eusine on her work day and laughs at his comments. It feels normal and good to come home and have some support from someone she knows so well. 

It’d been years since they saw each other, when she moved after the attack, they lost contact. It was like another hole appeared in her heart losing him for so long. He was the other reason aside from the job to come back to Celadon. She just had to find her best friend. 

The ad for the apartment was almost too good to be true and when she met with the landlord she was surprised to see Eusine’s mother smiling at her in the lobby. His mother saw Layla’s applications and accepted it right away, withholding the information that her neighbor was Eusine himself.

Life had gotten in the way and even though they drifted apart, the moment they saw each other it was like it hadn’t happened. 

Being in the city itself hasn’t affected Layla as she thought it would. Eusine has been good about her mental health and she loves him for it. Despite the tragedy in the past, she finds herself still feeling the warmth and comfort of home living here.

“You’re wasting your time there,” Eusine insists as he sets up the table. “You could work  _ anywhere _ !”

“I know, I know,” Layla sighs. She slices up the homemade french bread, plates it and hands it to him to place on the table. She gets their bowls of stew and moves to sit, the aroma of cooked meat and veggies making her stomach growl. “I just need the money more than anything.”

“Your dad’s a doctor?” he replies, pouring the wine for the two of them. 

“He’s not a surgeon, Eusine. I’m not getting a hand out from my dad,” she replies. “Besides, I’m not broke. I just want to have emergency money set aside before moving to Olivine.”

“So, you’re punishing yourself?” he questions, taking a big bite of stew. “I will miss your cooking, that’s for sure.”

“Come with me,” she grins, swirling her spoon. “What would I be punishing myself for?”

“I don’t know,” Eusine shrugs, chewing on some meat. “You don’t like change. Moving to Olivine would be such a big difference, especially after what made you leave me in the first place all those years ago.”

Layla sets down her spoon, her right hand moving to rub the scars on her left arm as she thinks about the fire. It was such a hectic time in her life, everything was fine until the fire happened and suddenly she’s taken away to another city to start over. Leaving Eusine was hard enough the first time, to do it again, willingly? When she has all she needs here? The apprenticeship isn’t even a sure thing, she has to apply when they open and get in...

She shakes those thoughts away, frowning at Eusine. “When did you become all zen?” 

He laughs. “It’s what I get for spending too much time with Morty.”

“Who?” she frowns. 

“Morty, my best friend,” he snickers at her. “You’re not the only one, you know.”

“Uh, he sounds like an imaginary friend,” she laughs. 

“No,” he rolls his eyes. “He’s the gym leader in Ecruteak.”

Layla sits up at that. “You’re friends with a gym leader?”

“Of course,” he scoffs. “You are too.”

“Yeah, but I’m cool.”

“Hey!”

“I don’t believe it,” she laughs. “But as long as he gives you good advice to give to me. I’ll take it.”

Eusine grumbles under his breath, but keeps eating as their conversation turns more toward his day and what he did. Hearing about his adventures and sightseeing makes Layla a bit jealous, she never wanted to be a trainer going on the gym challenge. But that didn’t mean she didn’t want to see the world the way a trainer does. Exploring caves, walking through forests and meeting new people, seeing new things. 

She loves the idea for a short term trip.

“Do you think you’ll get to meet it?” she hums, finishing her wine a little while later. 

Eusine has already started to clean up the table and do dishes. “Suicune? I hope so. It’s my dream.”

“What would you even do? Catch it?” she gathers her bowl and glass. “Do you want to keep it?”

“That’s what I thought at first,” he replies in a gentle tone. “But Grandpa always thought a legendary pokemon’s place is in nature. I know there are people that want to catch them, tote them around. But some pokemon aren’t meant to be caught, I think.”

“You want to befriend it,” she smiles. “You’re such a sweetie, does Morty know that?” 

Eusine rolls his eyes. “Morty and I are bros. He knows everything about me, like you do.”

“I didn’t know you had another best friend.”

“True, he knows of you. I’ve mentioned you a few times.”

“Talking crap? Nice,” she scoffs. He nudges her with his elbow and she laughs. “You know I’m kidding. Besides, I am still skeptical.”

“Well, you’re never meeting him,” he replies with a shrug. “Don’t want you two teaming up against me.”

“Oh? He keeps you in check, how sweet,” she laughs. “I’m glad it’s a full time job between the two of us.”

“Exactly why you two shouldn’t meet,” Eusine confirms. 

The two finish up cleaning before Eusine retires to his apartment for the night, leaving Layla to shower and get ready for bed. She peels off her work clothes, light blue scrubs that feel only like a formality for her since she doesn’t do much in terms of exams. Camden wanted her to seem more professional for client’s coming in, making them trust the Daycare even more if a trained nurse was on site. 

As she brushes her curls, after her shower, she thinks about her dream job in Olivine. Working at the center there, going on rescues to help wild pokemon along the coast and take care of trainers out there too. She loves the heat in Olivine, loves the cobblestoned streets, the farmer’s markets and her good friend Jasmine lives there too.

They met at the gardening class Erika has every other week in her gym. Layla was surprised to find the Johto leader there, quite a far trek. But Jasmine was bored at home, and wanted to spruce up her house with some plants. Something the two have in common is their inability to keep plants alive and well. It brought them together and after hearing how Layla wanted to live in her hometown, Jasmine was elated to have another friend that was going to be living closer to her. 

Until then, Layla has to put up with her crappy job and crappy manager before securing her apartment near the port in Olivine. Her father has offered to help multiple times, but Layla likes the thought of being able to do this for herself and would rather he help someone that isn’t in the same spot as her. She’s sure there’s someone out there that needs the money. 

She puts her curls up into a pineapple for bed, to keep the curls good for another day, before slipping under her covers. 

_ Just a little longer, Layla, _ she reassures herself as she drifts off into a deep sleep.  _ A little... longer. _


	8. Changing

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Alright. This is the last slow chapter, we have new developments, old names, enemies, etc... The foundation is built so next week we will dive into the plot. For now, enjoy Layla being a normal person and then a look at the hint of our bad guy line up.

The next morning, Layla wakes up feeling refreshed and ready for her day. When she’s not working, she sees a little more time in bed scrolling through her pokegear to catch up on what she missed. It lets her delay the inevitable of having to get up and do the financial planning for the Daycare for Camden. 

That’s really the biggest project on her to-do list; the other things being grocery shopping and cooking for Eusine before he leaves again. 

She puts her pokegear away after some scrolling and slips off her bed to get ready. Music plays from her pokegear as she dresses comfy, and goes through her morning routine. Breakfast consists of a simple ham and veggie omelet and some Johto coffee, a gift from Eusine. 

She gets her laptop out on the little dining room table and gets the files Camden gave her and spreads them out in order as well. It’s been a couple months since she took on this task of getting things in order. The owner of the Daycare thought someone was stealing and Camden was desperate to remain in control so he appointed Layla to do, as if she would fall victim to his whims. 

It’s not as bad as he made it out to be, sure there are so many numbers, all of them what she wishes her bank account looked like but she didn’t get his jokes about the missing money being something of a human error. She spotted the discrepancies right away and the missing money got found. 

With her coffee cooling beside her, Layla takes her seat and dives into the world of numbers, doing her best to be thorough and patient. The kinds of clients coming into the daycare precedes the money they make. She’s almost offended she’s not making more, same with the others.

The first time she saw all those commas, she was sure there had to be an underground part of the daycare. Money laundering or something; but one look at the client’s on their websites and she knew it was real. They were some of the most powerful people in the city, and they paid for  _ excellent _ care at the daycare. 

After that, she kind of saw the value of her work, and then just how undervalued she is in comparison to the others. If she’s supposed to be in Camden’s position, she should definitely be making more. Even if the position is not as medical as she expected it to be; she gets to work with some rare pokémon and that satiates her appetite. It also makes swallowing her underpaid job and overworked hours much easier. 

_ Excuses _ , Eusine’s voice plays through her head and she leans back in her chair. 

Her mug of coffee still steaming in front of her, she recounts her time in Celadon. 

Why is she still here?

Nothing’s tying her down to her apartment, she could end the lease she has easily and move to Olivine with no hard feelings between herself and Eusine’s mother. She doesn’t have too much stuff, she could pack up pretty easily and move to Olivine no problem. 

Money?

Yeah, rent isn’t cheap on the coast. With what she has saved up, she could make a security deposit and first month’s rent, but would be eating cheap ramen for weeks after that. She wants to live comfortably while working at the center. She’ll be devoting almost all her time to furthering her education and getting the experience she craves. If she even gets the job; applications haven’t opened for the next year and it’s a grueling process. 

Layla knows better than to give up now, she knew all this information when she applied to Nursing School. It’s just after all that work, it’s a lot more effort to get the job she wants. Whereas the Daycare she got in with her skills, no issue  _ and _ she gets to care forPokemon of any type.

She and Eusine live a good life here together. 

He goes off to investigate the legends of Johto from the stories his Grandfather used to tell him years ago. there haven’t been sightings of Legendary pokemon in either Kanto or Johto for years. Trainers have scoured all over both regions, including the islands, and still nothing. It’s interesting the ways they can hide, Layla wonders if there are any even left after all this time. 

Eusine wants to uncover the truth, mainly about Suicune, and so he studies legends, myths and other leads in the hope of finding them. It’s been his goal since he got out of school, after his grandparents passed away and his mother divorced his father. 

Now they’re neighbors, taking on the world together, day by day...

By early afternoon, Layla finishes up the accounts and makes good on her promise to Pocha. There’s a pond not too far from the complex, open for water types to swim in for as long as they want. Usually, she goes to the pool with him, but she’s not in the mood to get her hair wet, and she has a lot on her mind she’d rather be above water to think about. 

Pocha does a happy dance and waddles after her after she’s changed into some casual leggings and a sweater and slipped on her sneakers. She grabs her keys, his pokeball and heads out on the city. 

Celadon is as busy as ever, bustling with cars, trucks and taxis to take people anywhere they want to go. Since Team Rocket’s fiasco years ago, the casino has since been renamed and has become a popular attraction once again. The strip where it’s located is a tourist trap, meant to draw them in, suck them dry and spit them out the next morning. Gambling spots, clubs and other nightlife favorites dot the main strip of the city. Followed by famous and overly expensive restaurants meant to draw in the wealthy.

Layla often feels plain and underdressed walking by the strip at any time of the day. Men and women dressed to the nines inhabit the streets, their jewelry gleaming in the sunlight, their rare pokemon lifting their chins to the commoners. Sometimes, she sees a client and the pokemon will break away to greet her, an occurrence that makes her happy but also horrifies her. 

Outside of work her look is akin to a Grimer, in her opinion. Sweats, loose clothing and her curls loose framing her face. Not the professional refined looked she wears in the daycare at all.

“Okay, have fun,” she urges her Prinplup as they come up on the pond to find it void of other pokemon. 

Her water type chirps happily and dives in without a second thought. His form disappears beneath the watery depths and Layla smiles, knowing he’s content with his life with her. She settles on the grass near the edge, leaning against a tree to watch the clouds float by and listen to the voices of passers by. 

“ _ \- the battle today?” _

Layla perks up, remembering the tournament and Lance’s battle, so much for watching him on her TV. She strains against the tree to hear the details, though there’s no doubt in her mind he won.

_ “Of course, he won! He’s the strongest of the strong, _ ” the other friend sighs dreamily. “ _ I think he misses Serena and makes it hard so a worthy challenger will take his spot.” _

__ _ “You think so?” _ The first friend poses. 

_ “They totally had a thing. Did you see the way they looked at each other? Or how Lance dedicated everything to her? He’s totally in love. _ ”

Layla smiles at that, remembering the gossip sites marking every instance those two could be in a relationship. It was interesting to say in the least, during their conversations though, Layla never thought to ask about it. She supposes if it was sent to one person, it could easily leak.... But still, Layla would love to know. 

“ _ But she’s off somewhere now!” _

__ _ “Yeah, but I bet that makes their sex better... what I would give for a taste of that-“ _

__ Layla stops listening, unable to hide her snickers at the friends gushing over Lance, the Champion. At this point, she swears everyone does, there are so many clients that ask about the best places to spot him in Kanto or if he’ll be visiting the gym that day. He has grown considerably strong over the past two years, his first year was rough, but he made it through.

Then there’s the question of Serena. Her old friend from camp, they haven’t seen each other in years. She received an email letting her know she’s going to explore the world and to keep messaging her for updates. Though it’s been months since she’s last heard from the brunette...

“Prin!” Pocha leaps from the water. He lands a little ways from Layla and shakes himself out, showering her in cold droplets. 

“Ugh, Pocha!” She glowers at her pokemon, though there’s a smile on her face. He chuckles, leaning forward to rub his beak on her arm, she reaches up to pet his soft feathers with a sigh. “I know, I know. I’m thinking too hard about everything. I really need a vacation.”

He nods, seeming to agree with her words before gesturing for them to get moving. Tradition calls for a stop by the ice cream shop at the edge of this little park before they head home. A couple laps around the pond keeps his stamina up and gets his skin the moisture it needs to keep healthy, so their trips are never dreadfully long and Pocha tends to be a bit on the lazy side. He does what he needs to keep healthy, but longs to nap in the sun at home. 

“Okay!” She laughs, getting up at his urging. “Let’s get some ice cream and head back then, bud.”

_**OoOoO** _

Archer was annoyed the second he laid eyes on the dilapidated building that was once one of Team Rocket’s main bases of operation. What once was an immaculate building hidden in the trees away from prying eyes, is now overtaken by the undergrowth. Broken windows gape at him, rusted metal dares to stab him as he and Ariana traverse around the back path to the back door. 

“Two years and it looks like this,” he swears under his breath, swiping at the plants blocking the keypad. “Luckily, the G-men haven’t found this place yet.”

He stabs at the keypad, an old number burned into his memory so he could one day bring Team Rocket back from the ashes for Giovanni. It’s been two years since their leader abandoned them suddenly. The Sevii Island project got trashed by that damn boy, leading to their official disbandment. It was a heartbreaking day for Archer, everything he’d been working for had come crumbling down in front of him. 

It was a mess. 

“What are you hoping to find?” Ariana questions as they enter the building, finding the inside intact but hidden under a thick layer of dust. 

For a second, Archer ignores her, stalking over to the front desk where a computer sits along with some files scattered atop the desk. He gestures for her to flip on the lights, they take a few minutes to actually illuminate the room, and rounds the desk to sit at the chair. The computer takes several minutes to boot up, requiring a multitude of updates to do so. 

He uses this time to answer her. “We need to find Giovanni, I think a good way to flush him out is to bring back Team Rocket. To do  _ that _ we need money, we need followers, and a goal.”

“What are you thinking?” she sits on the desk, arms crossed and dark red eyes scanning the room. 

“First, money,” Archer scours the desk to see what he has on hand. He pulls out a pad of paper and a pen. A cloud of dust floats up from his movements and he grumbles waving it away. “We’re going to need the grunts we have to do some clean up. Petrel and Proton should be at the other base near Saffron.”

“What are they supposed to find?” she scoffs, slipping off the desk to look through the cabinets behind him. 

“Files, Ariana,” Archer growls, losing patience with her endless questions. “We need people, they’re searching for them. We have allies across the regions, no matter what happened two years ago, they’ll come back. You and I are to look for ways to earn money.”

At that point, the computer’s main screen finally comes up and Archer opens the database to find their accounts hidden along Kanto and Johto’s smaller cities. The accounts have a fair amount left, most made from store fronts, illegal gambling rings, illegal trades and what not. Archer writes down the larger accounts, feeling gleeful they have enough to get the bases up and running. Not enough to fund research from other rocket members, but that will come in time. 

The accounts that are losing money due to being withdrawn, catch Archer’s eye and he feels a bit of rage rise up inside him. The account holders were some of Giovanni’s trusted members outside the circle of executives Archer is in control of. These are men and women who swore their allegiance to their leader and he feels disgusted they would steal from them as though nothing would happen. 

“It seems we have to reinstate Team Rocket’s position as a powerful organization in Johto and Kanto,” he gestures to the screen. 

Ariana peers over his shoulder and laughs. “What are you thinking? Making some visits and leaving a trail of blood?”

“Of course,” he responds. “It’s the Team Rocket way.”


	9. Sorry

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Title may be misleading but it's the song by Aquilo and it just encompasses Lance's mood. Pouty baby. Now we are getting the ball rolling with the plot and the story. I want to give a shoutout to TMWolf, I'm sure you've all heard of her. Her OC Cas makes an appearance in this chapter. Go check out her page, she's on Tumblr, Pinterest, Twitter, and other social media and read her fics too!

New beginnings come in many forms. 

For new trainers, it’s in the form of their pokemon partner, gifted to them by their regional Professor who has raised said pokemon from hatchling to its first two or three moves. It’s a beautiful thing, starting a journey with a pokemon, at least that’s what Lance believes. Whether they become a Nurse, Breeder or Gym Leader and beyond, it’s a life-changing moment and when it gets marred by a robber, it makes him sad for the opportunities stolen from another person. 

“This is terrible!” Elm exclaims as two policemen investigate the area. 

Aaron takes the professor aside, offering him a place to sit while Lance watches with a calm expression. His golden eyes survey the lab, the floors are immaculate and shiny as the fluorescent lights shine down on them. Along the middle of the large main room sit some shelves stuffed with books protected with a glass covering to prevent damage. The back wall has two large windows sitting over the professors main workstation taking up the entire length of the wall. A health machine sits in the corner, connected to a desktop on a small desk beside it. On the long table on the other side of the room, another pokeball holder and maintainer sits on the right with all three pokeballs gone, two taken earlier by new trainers and the third one stolen. 

Lance grimaces at the trail of destruction leading up to the machine, some officers take pictures and note of the crime scene while interviewing Kris, one of Elm’s most trusted assistants. The other assistants have started cleaning up some papers not relevant to the crime scene and putting everything back in order. Apparently, the thief caused a ruckus to confuse everyone, tossing some smoke bombs and knocking over potted plants before taking the ball and leaving. 

“Luckily, two other kids got their pokemon today,” Elm sighs, slumping in his chair. “Lyra and Ethan are going to be fabulous trainers. Lance you better watch out.”

The red haired man grins at the professor. A professional smile. “Hmm. I’ll be the judge of that, Professor.”

Elm grins back at him before regarding Aaron. “Lyra had run into the boy that was here. She already gave her statement to Jenny, what are the G-men doing here?”

It was a question Lance had been asking before they left the Plateau earlier. A simple robbery doesn’t need G-men intervention, the local PD can handle that. There was something about this case, something Aaron caught wind of from Officer Jenny that he needed to come and see for himself. 

_ And me. _

While there are no hard feelings between them, Lance was surprised to be the one Aaron wanted to come with him. Words weren’t exchanged on the way, or at all. The atmosphere between them wasn’t hostile, which Lance was grateful for, but it wasn’t friendly either. Or that could have been Lance’s imagination.

“The description,” Aaron grins, pulling out a mini notebook. “It said the boy had bright red hair and gray eyes. Is that correct?”

“Yes,” Elm nods, cleaning his glasses. “Lyra confirmed that. She was the one to battle him over in Cherrygrove. Said his name was Silver.”

Aaron writes that down. “Is there anything else you can tell me?”

“She did mention he was considerably rude and that it might transfer to his pokemon,” Elm supplies with a shake of his head. “Jenny said there was no trainer license under that name, so who knows if he has one. Poor kid, I would have given him that pokemon had he gone through the right channels.”

“I understand,” Aaron smiles. “I want to help him out as much as I can. If there’s someone out there giving out false licenses, it’s our job to stop it. Right, Lance?”

Lance turns back at his name, his eyes meeting Aaron’s for a quick second before turning to Elm with a smile. This day is starting to get full of smiles, it feels almost hostile at this point. “Of course.”

Elm relaxes and nods at the two of them. “I’ll let Lyra know to contact me should she meet him again.”

“That’d be great,” Aaron slides his notebook away and stands up. “Would you like help cleaning up?”

Lance has already gotten to work, picking up some files and trying to organize the papers when a young woman walks up to him. She clears her throat, a blush forming on her fair skin under her freckles, and holds her hand out to Lance. He flashes a smile, used to seeing teens flustered in his presence, he thinks it’s cute. 

“That, um, won’t be necessary,” she stammers under his gaze, accepting the files from him. “It’s mostly done, anyway.”

“Ah, this is Cassandra,” Elm smiles, gesturing towards the redheaded woman. “She’s my newest student alongside her Growlithe. She shows some promise as well, though it will be a few years before she’s on her journey.”

Aaron comes over to relieve her from Lance’s gaze, the champion willingly stepping back after a nod at her. He beams at the young girl, holding out his hand to shake. “Good to meet you, Cassandra,” he nods down at the fire type at her feet. “You too, Growlithe.”

“Call me Cas,” she beams, adjusting her red hair in a ponytail. She seems more relaxed with Aaron, but steals some glances at Lance as he heads towards the door. “When Silver came in here, I heard him talking about using that Totodile to stop something. I’m not sure what though.”

“That’s good to know,” Aaron nods. “If anything else happens, don’t hesitate to call me.”

“Will do!” Elm waves them off. 

Lance follows behind Aaron, avoiding the man's gaze and giving him some distance as they exit the lab. Early spring in New Bark Town is an act of beauty on Mother Nature’s part. While small in population, the landscape sprawls across the rolling hills formed into farmlands and well kept fields. It lies close to the border of Kanto and the League where the two hailed from, Route 27 is an inlet with paths made of little blocks of land and some docks to get to 26 and then the league. 

Pulling his jacket tighter around him, Lance follows Aaron’s lead to the end of the road, out of sight of the lab and anyone who may watch them. 

“I’m going to ask Clyde to keep an eye out for this young man,” Aaron explains, turning to glance at Lance. “Can you ask the gym leaders to keep an eye out as well?”

“Sure thing,” he nods without hesitating. 

“Lance,” Aaron pauses a few feet away. When the young man glances up at Aaron, the older man offers a gentle smile. “I forgive you.”

No matter how many times he says it, Lance doesn’t believe it. It may be true, but it also feels like a lie. “Okay.”

Knowing it’s not getting any farther than that, Aaron pulls out a pokeball. “Let’s head back.”

**_OoO_ **

“So, Mr. Wataru,” the interviewer starts, her voice is firm, but the blush on her face reveals the nerves beneath the facade. 

Lance tries not to look too demeaning, sitting back against his champion’s chair in the final battle room, and puts on a warm smile. It’s the seventh time she’s referred to him as such, despite his rebukes to just call him Lance, and he’s ready to give up. 

“This year, for the tournament, you seemed more driven than ever,” she continues, glancing down at her notes. “What is your motivation to take on challengers? How do you maintain it in the heat of battle?”

A wave of shame makes Lance shudder a bit in his chair, he passes it off as a shiver and leans forward. Her question hits harder than intended, considering he questioned throwing the battle to lose. It happened last year for the final tournament, he faces his opponent unsur whether he’s fit for the spot given to him. 

He’s not sure what she means by this year, he was  _ so close _ , but it could just be the excitement for the fight. 

“Well, I fought hard for my spot and hit a lot of challenges along the way,” he starts. Then he gives her a sly smile and a chuckle. “Some of it self imposed, I admit. However, all those struggles disappeared on the field. Out here,” he waves his arm towards the field, “I’m just another trainer. It may not seem like it to the challenger, but I am. I’m here to test them, win or lose it’s up to them and their pokemon.”

“How do you think you’d handle a loss?” She asks, recovering from another flush at his insinuation of his past. 

He sits back at that, rubbing his chin and glancing around the field. “I don’t think I’d be mad. I think we should always be happy when we lose because it means trainers are meeting our expectations. I believe, as a league, we are a test for trainers wanting to achieve greatness. The bar they can either reach or soar above, a loss is a loss to me. But it’s an achievement for my challengers.”

She smiles, loving the passion in his voice and sits up for the next question. “You’ve held this position for two years already. What does Serena have to say for that?”

Lance steels himself for the question, a grimace in front of her would be the headlines for the papers. He hasn’t spoken with Serena since that night and it’s left a gaping hole in his chest ever since. She never returned his call and he supposes it’s what he deserved after everything she did for him. Everything she  _ gave _ him. 

He clears his throat, forcing a smile to his face and a strained laugh. “I hear her voice before every battle, warning me to not destroy her hard work. I’m sure she’d be the one mad at me if I never gave it my all.”

The interviewer smiles, pleased with the answer and turns off the recorder to gather her things. “Thank you so much for the interview, Mr. Wataru. I hope you’ll be pleased when it comes out in the next issue.”

“Of course,” Lance grins, standing and gesturing for a league staff to come closer. “If there’s anything else you need, you have my email.”

She flushes at his words and shakes his hand. “Y-yes, right. Have a good day.”

He nods goodbye to her, watching as she fixes her appearance on the way out, and sighs once the main door closes. 

“Well, that was a nice non-answer,” a voice states from behind. 

Lance turns to see Karen strutting up in her usual clothes, white pants, yellow crop top and heels. He half smiles at her and joins her on the way back to his office. “What do you mean?”

“She asked what Serena has to say, present tense,” she loops her arm with his, easily keeping pace with his long strides. “You said you heard her voice, no indication of whether or not the two of you are talking.”

“You know I can’t say anything about not speaking with her,” he sighs, opening the door for her. “It’d be first page news.”

“The woes of being famous,” she pouts at him. “Anyways, I have some paperwork for you. The Gym Leaders have all turned in their shit and want the okay to start their vacation rounds.”

The thought of the pile of paperwork from 16 gyms makes Lance want to jump off a balcony. He stops in his steps to glance at the ceiling and close his eyes, exasperated by the work ahead of him on such a nice spring day. Then he feels a bit of guilt rise at it, this is what Serena did each year with little complaint, the least he could do was work. Do his job nonetheless.

“Yeah, okay,” he sighs heavily. “I’ll get a look at it.”

“Good,” she grins as they come up to his office. 

She leans against the frame as he swings the door open and steps inside. She watches him unclip his cape and toss it on the couch in the middle of the room. He looks haggard from working, the tourney taking place just a couple weeks ago and the reports flooding in now. Running two leagues is a lot of work and if she didn’t know Lance any better she would feel bad. However, he’s turned down every suggestion for an assistant and almost every instance she offered to help. 

It was okay the first year, but now? It’s just a punishment he’s inflicting on himself. 

“You know,” she starts after seeing him settle at his desk and grimace at the paperwork. “Will and I are having dinner tonight at his apartment here. You’re welcome to join us.”

Lance considers it for a moment. He knows the tone of her voice so well at this point, she’s worried about him. Frankly, he’s worried too. Nothing feels right anymore. Clair doesn’t speak to him unless it’s an insult, his parents tip toe around the topic of Serena though it’s clear they want to discuss it with him, and he avoids Serena’s parents. Though, Rowan makes it hard when she drops off meals at his house to ensure he’s eating. 

Jaxson has been off exploring the world, for a moment he thought Serena had run off with him, but Jax swore he wouldn’t do that to Lance. He can’t burden him with his problems, he’s doing what wants to while Lance is stuck in the office. 

Sometimes, he wonders if this is how he’ll be for the rest of his life. Holding the champion title with thousands of fans, but all alone...

“I think I’ll skip tonight,” he gestures to the paperwork. “I want to get this done and then check on the G-men.”

Karen looks somber when she nods, accepting defeat. “I know we haven’t been here long, but Will and I are here for you. Whenever you need it.”

“I know,” Lance nods, though it feels like a lie when he says. “I’m just... not in the mood now. Thank you, Karen.”

She nods and disappears, shutting the door and leaving Lance to work in peace. He glances down at the forms before him, his mind already sorting them and dives in. It took a while after his entry into the Hall of Fame to get the paperwork down right. Serena had sent instructions to his email on how to do it days after she left. It was the only correspondence between them and there was no message in the email. Just the instructions and he’s kept it in his inbox ever since. 

The sun dips closer to the horizon as he finishes up the forms, sending them to the Association for review, and closes his laptop. His watch tells him it’s 5pm, in time to visit his father in the HQ down below. More robberies have occurred, instances of terror when random business get held up for past ties with Team Rocket. He doesn’t understand it, has Giovanni returned? 

He hopes so. He wants to give that shithead a piece of his mind.

“Hey, son,” Wesley pats Lance on the back as the redhead steps out of the elevator. “How was the interview?”

“It went well,” Lance shrugs. “The usual.”

Wesley smiles. “That’s my boy. Now, come see this.” He gestures to monitor showcasing the map of Johto. “So far, all the hits have been in Johto. Nothing major, a few injuries to certain people. Witnesses say there were some arguments about loan money, I’m assuming it’s people collecting debt under Team Rocket’s name.”

“Why?” Lance frowns. 

“They terrorized the regions for years, it would be a good cover for someone looking to bring fear back,” Wesley shrugs. “I don’t buy it, but it’s an idea to go off of.”

“Giovanni’s not back,” Aaron comments, descending the main steps. 

Lance glances away and moves aside to give Aaron space to move through, a move that doesn’t go unnoticed by either parent. “How do you know?”

“I know my brother,” Aaron replies, glancing Lance’s way. “His failed attempt at a takeover, foiled by Red, and then abandonment of his gym and Team... No, he’s not here. He’s doing something else.”

“Like what?” Lance frowns again. 

“Searching,” Aaron glances up at the world map on the wall. 

“For S-Serena?” Lance breathes, his heart pounding at the thought of her captured somewhere. Suffering at the hands of her uncle. 

“Maybe,” her father sighs. “Last I heard, she was in Sinnoh still.”

This catches Lance’s attention, he assumed she was in contact with her family and while it hurts to know she’s avoiding him, it’s a relief to know she’s okay. “When was that?”

“A couple months ago. I think she’s going to Hoenn next,” Aaron says. He glances at him. “For the record, I’ve been telling her to reach out to you.”

Lance feels uncomfortable with the direction they’re taking and tugs on his cape. “Oh, um. Thanks.”

Wesley clears his throat. “You think it’s his executives?”

“I do,” Aaron sits at a desk, typing away until pictures show up on the monitor. “These are the ones I think are heading the operation.”

“Proton... From the SS Anne?” Lance peers at the familiar face, his gut wrenching at the memory of Serena falling into the icy waters of Vermillion port.

“Yes,” Aaron nods. “This one is Archer,” he points to another blue haired man on the screen. “He was at the Saffron takeover according to Serena. I don’t have names on the others but they were seen around each other a lot. I’m assuming they’ve made a come back, preceding Giovani’s return.”

“You think he’s got something else planned?” Wesley interjects. 

Aaron grits his teeth thinking on it. He knows Giovanni wouldn’t just disband Team Rocket and give up his life of villainy all together. Their family worked too hard for it to come crashing down at the hands of a kid. While he knows Giovanni  _ will  _ come back, he’s unsure about  _ when _ he’ll be back. 

“I can’t say for sure,” he concedes after a few moments. “We’re going to have to defer to police stations in every town until then. Lance,” his voice softens a bit, “the gym leaders will have to keep an eye out. If they go on vacation I’d like one of their trainers to be acting leader to keep an eye on the town. If they can’t maybe an elite or you can fill in the spot?”

Lance nods. “Yeah, I have a meeting coming up soon with them all. We’ll talk about it more then.”

“Sounds good.”

Lance feels awkward from there as the two discuss plans on the way to their offices. Since taking over, they’ve been working much better hours and giving the G-men a better rep in the past two years. It makes Lance proud to see his father working in such a position, one he’s been dreaming for most of his life. 

Yet, the moments like this Lance feels out of his element and trapped without someone at his side to help him...

“Feeling alright, Lance?” A feminine voice questions from behind. 

Lance shakes out of his reverie to turn and see a woman with brown skin and bright hazel eyes smiling kindly at him. “Juniper. Hi. Yeah, just a long day.”

“Take a break then,” she tilts her head. “You’ve been working hard since the end of the tournament. Don’t you think a little weekend off would do you, and your pokemon, good?”

She had a point and he knew it. Despite being a few years new to the G-men, her past as a Pokemon Ranger had her climbing the ladder fast. She’s a trusted agent that’s worked close with his father on some cases, he doesn’t know much about her but if Wesley trusts her, he will too. 

“Just got a lot on my mind,” he shrugs. “I can’t relax if my head is here.”

She half smiles, poorly disguising her pity, and pats his arm. “At least get some rest tonight. Not much else is new and your father will be in there for a few hours yet.”

“Yeah,” he glances up at the office Wesley and Aaron stand in discussing plans. “Thanks, Juniper. Good night.”

“Good night, Lance.”

He leaves with a swish of his cape and a wave to his dad above. The trek back to his office is cold and empty as he compiles a mental to-do list in the coming weeks. 

_ Is this what you had to deal with, Rena? _ He thinks to himself, gathering his laptop and folders to bring home.  _ Am I even doing it right? Would you be disappointed when you got back? _

Outside, he calls on Ryu to take him home, his trusty Dragonite stretching his wings in the cool night air. The pokemon nudges his head affectionately, used to seeing Lance in a sour state after work. 

“I’m okay,” he breathes back, pressing his forehead to his Pokémon’s. “I just miss her so much.”

Ryu whines as if to say he does as well. 

“Come on, let’s go home,” Lance pulls away with a half smile. “We can be sad sacks there.”


End file.
